


Heart-Shaped Box

by geeky__chick



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Bruce is an adorable science dork, Character Death, F/M, Infinity War was angsty enough for eternity, Loki in pain, Not Infinity War compliant, Post-Thor: Ragnarok (2017), Pre-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Valki - Freeform, Valkyrie got herself into a mess, much sads, sads, this will probably have a happy ending, thor tries to be a good brother
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-03
Updated: 2018-10-10
Packaged: 2019-05-17 13:14:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 22,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14832947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/geeky__chick/pseuds/geeky__chick
Summary: In the six months they’ve been on-board the Statesman, Loki has finally found some measure of redemption and peace. But on the eve he is to lose the woman he loves, he looks back on those months in a desperate attempt to hold on to his Valkyrie.





	1. Hollow

**Author's Note:**

> The style of this fic was inspired by another of mine for another fandom. I'm more likely to give this one a happier ending, though, since Infinity War was...yeah.
> 
> Comments and Kudos are much appreciated.
> 
> Also, I'm on Tumblr if you're in to that sort of thing.

As he stepped into the familiar room, Loki of Asgard allowed the grief to consume him. In the six months since his home planet had fallen, he hadn’t thought about the things he had lost when the Realm Eternal erupted in flame. The people and places, they didn’t matter. He’d not been home, as himself, in so long…

But there was one set of rooms in the palace he missed. This place, this one place, he’d often wondered about the year he spent imprisoned beneath the palace he’d once called home.

His bedroom was just as he’d left it the day his brother was to be made king. Nightclothes were thrown over the chair at the ornate desk which was covered in books and papers. The spells he worked on the night before were still there, held down by an empty inkpot and the book his mother had only just given him.

Across from the desk, wide, open windows allowed the cool spring air inside, his light curtains cascading in a sort of dance as the breeze shifted the fabric. His room overlooked the eastern gardens, so the wind always brought him scents of fresh blooms. He stood in the doorway that led to his brother’s rooms, where Thor could be heard singing as he bathed and dressed for the ceremony that would make him king. His brother’s voice was jovial and carefree, as he had been before Loki’s prank tore everything asunder.

He’d tried to forget that day, the things that happened after the aborted ceremony, not that he had any luck.

This moment, this _memory_ , remained crisp and clear in his mind and so he used it for today’s purpose.

Loki had always loved his rooms, from the ceiling arches filled with painted scenes of his own deeds and the gilded candelabras illuminating the space as he read to the plush carpets and smooth tiles beneath his feet. The walls he had painted in soft, sensual lines with muted shades of earth tones. He was at home here, the rooms where he had grown up, shared his childhood with his brother in.

When he looked down at his body, Loki found the memory altered. He had not dressed himself the finery of his brother’s coronation, but a thin cotton tunic belted at the waist and his favorite pair of doeskin breeches. His soft leather boots made almost no noise as he stepped further into his haven, peering toward the bed that took up most of the eastern facing wall.

His bed, Thor had often teased, was practically obscene. Impossibly long, ridiculously wide and raised on a dais with four gilded posts soaring toward the ceiling. He hadn’t added a canopy, though that was purely to keep Thor’s joshing down to a minimum. The bedding he kept simple: fine-spun white cotton sheets and light blankets, pillows too numerous to bother counting.

And upon that bed lay a vision in emerald cloth, her lush body hidden beneath the wealth of silk. His approach woke her and she rose, her unbound hair draped over those mighty shoulders. Her dark eyes were sleepy, but that generous mouth lifted into a smile when she saw him.

Her secret smile, the one that spoke volumes of kindness and affection, the smile she reserved for him alone.

Pain lanced through him, forcing Loki to stop in his approach. The reason he had come back, the reason he had brought her here, rushed with ruthless efficiency through his mind.

_I’ve lost the pulse. Get the crash cart!_

_Can we even shock her?_

_We have to try!_

_L-Loki…_

She sat up now, blinking at him curiously before she took in their surroundings. This place would be, of course, unfamiliar, since she’d never had the chance to see his old home. She knew the palace, yes, but not his space, his haven.

Brunnhilde stared down at the gown his mind had dressed her in, the soft night clothes he knew she liked, no matter how she claimed sleeping in the buff suited her. His Valkyrie enjoyed fine things, fine cloth on her body, so it was no surprise that she smiled at his choice.

“Where are we?”

Her voice, so familiar, pained him further. Here an echo chased her words, another reminder that this was not real. This would _never_ be real. It was all he could offer her, a buffer from the pain, from the reality that tore his world apart around him.

“My rooms.” Loki replied as he reached the short steps leading to the bed. He held a hand out for her to take, pleased when she did so. She stood on the dais, the difference in their heights negated by the dais. “Asgard.”

Her noble brow knit with concern. “Asgard is gone.”

“I know.” Loki admitted, his throat bobbing with effort to maintain his composure. “We’re in my memory of this place.”

Brunnhilde turned her head, taking in the gild, the paint, the cloth that he’d turned into his home. Confusion and concern kept her mouth a tight line, her brilliant mind trying to piece together why they were here.

Loki had allowed his lover into his memories before, but it had always been a mutual agreement about where they would go, what she would see. This time…

“Something’s wrong.” Brunnhilde breathed, her dark eyes focusing on his once more. “Am I hurt?”

Again, he had to force himself to swallow over the emotion lodged in his throat.

“You are dying, my dear.” Loki whispered, reaching out to take her by the hips, pulling her closer. “And I cannot stop it.”

 Her hands found purchase on his shoulders, nails digging into flesh through the thin cotton of his tunic. Loki shushed her quickly, taking a step up the dais to shift her into his arms. Hilde fitted against his chest perfectly as she always did, her arms weaving around his slender frame to hold him close.

“Stay with me.”

Loki was not even aware he had spoken the desperate whisper until Brunnhilde’s voice replied against his chest.

“I will. Right here. In this moment.”

Blinking back the tears stinging at his eyes, Loki gripped his Valkyrie a bit more tightly.

 

~**~

**6 Months Ago**

_Choose your next words wisely._

Perhaps he hadn’t chosen wisely enough, after all.

Loki regained consciousness on a gasp, his last memory of the Valkyrie sit-spinning on his groin, her fist slamming into his nose hard enough to knock him out. There weren’t many creatures in the galaxy that could take him out toe-to-toe, trust a Valkyrie to finally manage it. Bravo.

Though he had woken, Loki kept his eyes shut, his head drooping forward so chin met chest. Behind him, slightly to the left, he could hear the clink of glass against metal, possibly dishes in a sink or liquor bottles. Considering whom had bested him, it was more likely the latter.

His hands were expertly bound behind his back, thick chains of imbued bronze wrapped half a dozen times around his arms and torso. The manner of his bondage kept him from focusing seidr, though he could draw on it, he would be unable to aim a spell. As he shifted on his makeshift seat, he noted that the chain wedged between his legs, wrapping around his ankles as well. She’d completely immobilized him. Loki, for once, was vulnerable.

Clever, clever Scrapper.

His bottom ached terribly, likely from rough handling that made his remaining muscles protest any attempt at movement. From the indentations of the crate on which he sat, Loki figured she’d likely deposited his limp form on a shipping container and left him to heal.

The fact that he was still alive spoke volumes. On Sakaar, it was eat or be eaten. Obviously, his captor had some sort of plan for him. What would that be? The Valkyrie had not yet fallen completely out of favor with the Grandmaster, she’d been in his affections long before the Bifrost dropped him on this trash heap. It would take more than this failure to throw her out. His own favor, however, was likely at its end.

Damn his brother to Hel.

He raised his head when heavy boot-falls brought her closer. Loki gave up the pretense of being unconscious, watching the leather-clad Asgardian warrior as she approached, an oversized bottle of some dark spirit in her hands, the glass container opulently decorated with geometric patterns in gold filigree.

In lieu of addressing her, Loki focused on the small, squalid apartment he’d been chained in. Furnishings were sparse, décor almost nonexistent. Garbage, scraps, all manner of intriguing or disgusting things littered the floor, an unhappy marriage with discarded bottles and cans of whatever Sakaarian liquor she brought home with her. A bed had been built into the wall behind him, covered in one filthy sheet, a tattered blanket and one, quite sad looking, pillow.

His eyes found food on the counter and that, at least, had been chosen with care. Fruit and vegetables worthy of the Grandmaster’s palace covered the counter, with only a handful of empty or nearly-empty bottles wedged between.

She lived as one in exile, without permanence or comfort. Loki eyed the woman cautiously as she perched on the wide window sill to his right, looking out into the wild square just outside. The ornate bottle she placed between leather-clad thighs, her head dropping back against the wall.

Unable to help himself as he decided he would not be the first to speak, Loki studied the profile of this Asgardian exiled to the arsehole of the cosmos. She had bathed recently, he could smell the soap lingering on the air, there must have been a small bathroom somewhere in this hellish little flat.

After a few moments of silence, Loki cleared his throat.

“Is there a reason I’m tied up here?”

“I haven’t decided yet.” The Valkyrie replied, lifting the bottle to her lips. “Shut up.”

Loki shifted in his chains, grunting with the link between his buttocks dug into him through the leather of his trousers. “I take it I’m not the first magician you’ve handled.”

Her lips pulled back in a smile, her reflection in the glass amused by his words. Loki found himself admiring her profile, the line of her jaw as she took another pull from her bottle.

“I was hip deep in blood before you were born, princeling.” She replied, glancing at him in the reflection of the window. “You’re not my first anything.”

Chuckling to himself, Loki dropped his gaze again to the disgusting floor under his feet. He wriggled, attempting to shift that digging link of chain out of his arse. “You know who I am?”

The Valkyrie turned at this, only slightly. One of those long, leather-wrapped legs pulled up to perch on the sill with her, the other dangling carelessly. Her bottle remained between her legs, those impossibly dark eyes catching his almost immediately.

“Prince of Asgard.” She replied, saluting him with her bottle. “Loki Odinson.”

“How did you manage to work that out?” Loki asked, lifting a brow.

“My contender introduced himself as the son of Odin, then claimed you as his brother.” The Valkyrie replied with a shrug. “It isn’t exactly thermonuclear astrophysics.”

Against his better judgement, Loki chuckled.  Though she was already drinking, she appeared more sober than he’d ever seen her. Over the last weeks on Sakaar, Loki had seen quite a lot of Scrapper 142, the Grandmaster’s beloved retriever. Though Loki warmed the madman’s bed, it was 142 that owned a little piece of the other man’s heart. Loki wondered why that was, why she hadn’t been allocated to the Grandmaster’s bedchamber when she arrived.

A Valkyrie, one of the mythical war-forged heroes even he had looked up to as a boy. The memory of him and his brother running carelessly through the palace with their wooden Dragonsfangs raced through Loki’s mind. He remembered how their mother indulged them, breaking their hearts when she revealed Odin’s warriors were always female.

And this woman…she was not the noble, intelligent, headstrong creature he had always admired. She seemed weary, beaten down. Hollow, so hollow. Loki had never attached that word to a living creature before, excepting himself. The thought brought a frown to his face.

“Which are you?” Loki asked quietly, knowing he was on shaky ground.

“You’ve no right to ask that.” The Valkyrie turned back to the window, her gaze back on the square beyond her apartment. “Given you made me relive their deaths, a memory I’ve spent years trying to erase.”

He fell quiet, thinking back to that moment, when he mind breached hers, yanking up the memory of the Valkyrior’s Fall. A low blow, he would never conceded to anyone but himself, but one his mother might have been proud of. _Cheaters survive, my little Loki._

The silence stretched between them as the Valkyrie stared out her window and Loki stared at her. The longer he stared, the more he discovered.

This was no mere foot soldier, no. This Valkyrie had held rank among her sisters, she carried herself with the air of an Alpha, a leader. Of the Valkyrie there were only four captains, and Loki could recall none of their names. If Thor were here, his brother would be able to figure out which Valkyrie had made her home on Sakaar.

He wanted her to turn back toward him, no matter how he told himself he didn’t. The image of her fighting him, those lethal daggers nearly catching him a handful of times, drifted in the back of his mind. The moment she’d pinned him with her knee, staring down at him all fury and fight, Loki had to practically slap himself to continue the fight.

Then she’d been above him, on top of him, and thank the Norns she’d knocked him out before he got any friskier.

“Brunnhilde.”

The Valkyrie spoke with the bottle against her lips, so quietly Loki might have missed it by breathing too loudly. He raised his eyes to her again, smiling a little at the revelation. Brunnhilde. Interesting. Thor would be able to tell him every great battle she fought…

“No titles to add to that?” He asked, his tone light.

“None that matter.” Brunnhilde replied, glancing at him briefly. “What of your titles, your highness?”

“Too many to count and none of them matter.” Loki replied uncomfortably.

His eyes found the timepiece above the bed, frowning when he realized their two hours had passed.

“Ha.” The Valkyrie said suddenly, swinging off of the window sill. She swallowed the remains of her bottle, tossed it onto the floor and strode toward the door.

“Stay here, your highness. I’ll be right back.”

Loki didn’t deign to reply as the door slid closed behind her.

~~*~~

**Now**

Bruce stared down at the ashen, swollen face of his friend, taking her free hand in his. Across the medical bed on the little moon they’d landed on, sat the Prince of Asgard, clutching Hilde’s hand tightly.

The prince looked haggard, his pale face almost stark white. Dark circles ringed his eyes, his thin face gaunt as the third day without improvement dragged on. Brunnhilde’s condition worsened by the hour, the pain so deep, so intense that even Bruce’s strongest drugs and Eir’s potions could not abate her screaming.

He checked the monitors that betrayed the grave condition of his friend, Hulk stomping and muttering in the recesses of Bruce’s mind. He wondered if the Hulk hadn’t appeared because he knew his beloved ‘Angry Girl’ needed the scientist.

“How is she?” Thor asked, stepping into the room quietly.

Swallowing thickly, Bruce looked up to meet his friend’s eye, shaking his head sadly. Whatever she’d run into on the surface of the planet was quick in its lethality and utterly without antidote. They still had no idea if Brunnhilde stumbled into the wrong plant or if she’d been purposefully poisoned.

Not that it mattered. There was nothing any of them could do.

Except Loki…

“Are they still under?” The king asked quietly, indicating to his brother.

“Yeah.” Bruce replied, his voice tired. “Loki said he was taking her to Asgard.”

Thor’s smile was sad as he reached out, touching his friend’s foot gently, as though he needed to connect with her in this moment as well. Loki taking Hilde’s mind had numbed her to the pain, he would keep her that way until the rest of her nervous system collapsed.

“Home.” Thor said, sadness evident in his tone. “Of course, he took her home.”


	2. Chapter Two: Comfort

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki and Hilde share memories to keep her under the pain.
> 
> Bruce tests a theory about the poison killing her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm SO sorry this took so long! I got promoted at work, which changed my hours so I'm adjusting and life just got on top of me. Hopefully it won't be so long between updates now.
> 
> Enjoy!

 

**6 Months ago**

 

Shortly after she began training a new Kingsguard, she noted his presence.

No matter when they began their sparring, their weapons training or strategy, he would inevitably turn up in the converted hangar, lingering in the shadows.

At first, Hilde thought it was the King’s order to keep an eye on her, that perhaps they did not entirely trust her to be sober long enough to train a new Guard.

When she confronted the King about that particular suspicion, he quickly dissolved that notion. Thor had not sent Loki to spy on her. In fact, he had no idea that the prince had taken to watching the training sessions. Wasn’t it odd?

Still, he continued to watch from the shadows, his bottle-green eyes clouded with mystery. Hilde found herself watching him as he watched her, even outside of the training room.

Today, she’d begun by sparring with her beloved Big Guy, showing her young recruits how to get on over on an opponent that outmatched them. Sparring kept her hulking green friend under control, and protected the _Statesman_ from his rampages.

Hilde found it fun to fight with her friend, to make him laugh as she scrambled onto his back or slid between his massive legs.

All while she fought and trained, Hilde felt Loki’s heavy gaze at her back. The weight of his stare sent her blood thrumming in her veins.

To any creature with a pulse and a penchant for his type, Loki Odinson cut an impressive figure. Tall, broad at the shoulder, lean at the hip, with that edge to his soul that made a creature wonder how sharp he might be.

Brunnhilde knew herself well enough to know she found him attractive and he wasn’t exactly hiding how he wanted her.

But to get involved with the Prince of Asgard, the God of Mischief…not a good idea.

Or so she tried to tell her libido.

“Fighting a larger opponent is all well and good.”

His voice cut through the sparring room with the precision of a blade, forcing Hilde and Hulk apart. Loki, hands clasped behind his back and devoid of his signature cloak, stepped closer. His nonchalant steps wove through her students. Hilde tried to convince herself that in rapidity of her breath was a direct result of her sparring with Big Guy.

She knew herself to be lying.

“How would one of you fare against a magician?” Loki asked of the students, his gaze sliding over Hilde without pause.

“Are you offering to help me show them?” The Valkyrie asked, amusement in her voice. “The last time we matched blades, you ended up on your back, highness.”

Loki’s answering smile was positively feral.

“There are worse ways to end a meeting with you, Valkyrie.”

Brunnhilde twitched her head to the Hulk, excusing him from the ring. Hulk grunted with amusement as he stomped away, allowing Hilde to back further into the ring.

Loki gave chase, summoning his blades with magic as Hilde discarded her Dragonsfang for daggers.

“Lads and ladies,” Hilde said as they took position. “The most important thing about fighting a magic user is to stay close, do not allow them distance. Like so.”

She moved to attack, Loki parried, and the trainees cheered.

 

**Now**

He opened his eyes, finding a river of tears from each snaking down his cheeks. She’d allowed him into one of her memories, that first day they fought in the sparring ring.

Though he recalled those events perfectly, including his own desire to touch her that led to him being at the end of her blades, this time he could see and feel it all from her perspective.

Knowing how his Valkyrie had felt about him, even then, drove home the hollow loss that filtered through the memories.

He was losing her and there wasn’t anything he could do about it.

Releasing her hand, Loki stepped away from the bed. Her dark flesh had turned so pale as the poison ravaged her body. Blue tinged her veins, making them visible against her impossibly white flesh. The swelling had subsided, somehow, making her features once again visible.

Loki popped his neck and back, stiff from sitting so long at her side, reliving old memories to keep the bone-deep pain at bay. He kissed her mouth before moving away, whispering that he would return in a moment.

He would not be able to keep her under if he did not eat, drink, or channel more seidr from the moon beneath them.

To keep her from the reality of pain, to help ease her, Loki was not going to allow her to surface until they had a cure. Something would help her, something would stop this.

He only wished he knew _what_.

As he stepped out of the tent, Loki sighed. Seidr drifted up from the core of the planet as he stepped onto the dirt, recharging him quickly. Keeping Hilde and himself lost in memory took only a little power, but suppressing her pain proved to be a Herculean effort.

More than anything, Loki had vowed to remove that pain.

“Has there been any change?”

The prince did not turn at his brother’s voice, nor did he reply as the green tendrils of seidr flowed into his body.

Loki merely shook his head.

Thor sighed, though he did not try to approach. Perhaps he knew that touching Loki would force his brother to shatter, or perhaps he did not want to interrupt the recharging of seidr, which might have hurt them both.

“I wish there was something I could do, brother.”

Loki nodded. “I know.”

Silence fell between them as Loki finished his collection of magic. When he was through, he turned to his brother. For once, he did not try to hide the pain ravaging his heart and soul. Thor reached out with one arm, pulling Loki to his chest.

This time, Loki did not pull away. He burrowed into his brother’s embrace, trying to take strength from him. Loki might never admit it aloud, but Thor gave the best hugs in the history of the practice. Thor kept him close for several moments, not judging that Loki needed the affection, not pulling away uncomfortably. Thor had always been more comfortable showing emotion and in this moment, his brother desperately needed to be comforted.

“We’re still searching for a cure,” Thor whispered. “I will not stop.”

“I know, brother.” Loki’s voice was muffled by Thor’s chest. “But I do not think it will help.”

Thor continued to hold Loki until they heard Brunnhilde cry out again. The King released his brother immediately and Loki rushed back to the side of the woman he loved.

“I’m here.” Loki whispered as Hilde struggled against the poison in her veins. He took her hand, dragging her back under the pain. He selected a memory this time, smiling as he brought it to the forefront of his mind.

“Let me back in, my love.”

He closed his eyes and slipped back into Brunnhilde’s mind.

 

**5 Months ago**

 

It had become almost impossible to control his thought process when they sparred.

At first, he hadn’t had such a difficult time matching blades against the last Valkyrie. In fact, as she attempted to forge untried youths into a functional Kingsguard, Loki found her to be the only creature on board who could manage to give him a run for his money.

Today was no different.

Loki bit back a smirk when his blade slid into her personal space, her block almost a moment too late. She arched a dark brow in his direction, an invitation to try again, even as her body spun out of his hold.

She’d long since abandoned the idea of disarming him, since Loki had the ability to summon an infinite amount of weaponry from the place between worlds. As a master of magic, Loki ought to have had the Valkyrie on her back in three moves.

Alas, that had only happened once.

As he stepped closer to her, blades flashing, Brunnhilde raised her weapons. They danced in parries and ripostes, their steps bringing them closer together, only to have a well-placed thrust shove them back again.

To Loki’s pleasure, a small smile played about the lips of his opponent.

Around them, the young Asgardians taking up the art of the blade watched in silence. Though they often cheered when Brunnhilde took her daggers to the King or even the Hulk, they never seemed to make a sound when Loki entered the ring. They watched in fascination, gasping at close calls, exhaling when the Valkyrie danced away from Loki’s lethality.

How could he blame them? Loki knew the image they made, the heat in their dance. She knew it too, he could see it reflecting in those dark, luminous eyes. Hilde practically grinned as he managed to get an arm around her neck, pulling her close to his chest, the tip of his dagger pressing into the armor of her abdomen.

So close. Loki felt his belly clench. His mouth went dry. The feel of her in his arms, the scent of her hair, the warmth of her flesh sent his body into hyperdrive.

And she _knew._

Hilde thrust her hips back, startling Loki out of his reverie. He managed to dodge the head-butt he knew was coming, discarding a dagger to grip her arm.

Too late.

The Valkyrie kicked out, shifted, spun and Loki landed flat on his back, her dagger poised against his throat.

With an annoyed grunt, he tapped the floor twice.

Brunnhilde’s generous mouth curved into a triumphant smile as she sinuously stood from her position on his lap. He’d have much preferred she stayed where she’d been, but there were things to attend to outside of this sparring ring.

Loki wished, not for the first time, that he didn’t have to do anything but spar with his Valkyrie until they reached Earth and he ended up in chains.

She dismissed her class, which hummed with chatter as they filed out of the makeshift training room. Brunnhilde had not lost her smile when she reached down with one gauntleted hand, offering it to her partner. Loki accepted the help, standing with ease as he slid his weaponry back into his pocket dimension.

Though they had never spoken of the heat between them, Loki knew she’d been aware of it as long as he had. Over the last weeks on this ship, they’d spent time together as part of the King’s council. When he’d stepped into the ring with her for the first time, he’d inadvertently signed up to help her train the recruits.

He would admit to no other that he only wanted the chance to be around her, even if that time involved daggers.

She sauntered over to the weapon table, belting her Dragonsfang to her hip. Loki admired the blue-tinged blade as he did every day, still astonished that a Valkyrie yet lived, a warrior he knew would give her life for his brother, the King.

Was there nothing about her that might turn him off?

“Hilde?”

He called her name without thinking, wondering what the hell he was going to say as she turned to face him from the door of the converted hangar.

She did turn, that lazy smile on her face. Loki moved closer, his council clothing replacing his sparring threads with a zing of emerald magic.

Brunnhilde lifted her brows with amusement at his display of power. Loki forced himself not to flush.

He had a way with women, and men, when it came to the escapades of sex. Those skills did not fail him now. Had he wanted to, Loki was sure he could spin a line, seduce her before she knew what hit her. He had always been the God of Mischief and that included the ability to shine for his paramours.

Something about Brunnhilde, though, told Loki he would find no satisfaction in that kind of seduction. He had respect for her, he _enjoyed_ her company. No, if Hilde sauntered into his bed, Loki wanted to know she did so because she wanted _him_ , not the illusion of him.

So, it was with simplicity he finally asked the question burning on his tongue for weeks.

“Will you have dinner with me?”

Brunnhilde tucked her tongue into her cheek, those dark eyes alight with mischief. “Is this affection for your conqueror?”

Loki arched a brow at his, his smirk feral. “Interesting you believe that because you bested me in a sparring ring that I was not the conqueror here.”

She nodded lightly, that amusement still stark on her beautiful face.

“Your rooms or mine?” The Valkyrie asked on a laugh. “We can trade tales of our sordid conquests over wine and mutton.”

Pleased, Loki found his heart was pounding. “Mine. After the council meeting this evening?”

“It’s a date, princeling.”

As Brunnhilde walked away, Loki bounced on his toes. Perhaps things were beginning to look up.

 

**Now**

In the wild woods outside of the camp, Bruce Banner trudged slowly, inspecting every flower and leaf he came across. His hands were covered by gloves made of dragonskin, which Thor had pressed into his grasp the second he announced he would retrace Hilde’s steps to find where she’d been poisoned.

Loki provided him with details of that day, even if Bruce hadn’t really wanted to hear the particulars.

The lovers had gone on a day trip together, enjoying being outside of the ship as they orbited the lush little moon. They walked to find gems in a cave at the end of the north river, had lunch in a small clearing at water. They made love in that clearing, Loki had revealed with no hint of shame, laying naked for hours under the heat of two suns.

On their way back, taking the eastern route, Hilde had begun to cough. In minutes, she’d become too weak to walk. Inside of an hour, she’d almost lost consciousness, forcing Loki to translocate them back to the camp, screaming for help.

Bruce had a theory, he had several, but the most obvious was that the thing attacking Brunnhilde was attuned to Asgardian physiology. Loki, being Frost Giant, had a very different genetic makeup. Bruce had come out to the woods with a glove coated with Thor’s blood and the other covered with Loki’s. He hoped that some of the fauna around them would react to one or the other.

He hoped that Hulk’s physiology would render him immune to whatever had attacked Hilde. Bruce paused, listening as Hulk muttered and stomped around in the back of his mind. Worry. Pain. Those emotions washed over Bruce from the consciousness of his alter ego.

Bruce hadn’t even felt those things from the Hulk. Was it possible his big green dark side actually _loved_?

Shaking himself, Bruce continued on his way, the blood coating his gloves shining in the gathering dark.

“Come on, Banner.” Bruce whispered to himself, thinking of how he’d had to shock his Asgardian friend as Loki bellowed at him to do something. He hated seeing his friend so fragile, so destroyed. “Think. Figure it out, man.”

He reached the clearing just as dusk turned to night, the glowing orbs of light Eir provided him floating above his head. He found a discarded rations wrapper and tried to banish images of Loki and Hilde going at it on the grass as he looked around.

“What the…”

Nearby, at the very bank of the river, lay a small cluster of black-capped mushrooms. Bruce stared at the things, noting that one of the caps lay on the ground to the side, broken from the stalk.

Blue dust coated the decapitated top and the caps nearby. Bruce approached cautiously, removing the glove with Jotun blood and tossing it nearby.

The mushrooms did not react.

Bruce removed the glove bearing Asgardian blood and threw it gently toward the mushrooms.

Almost immediately, the closest cap snapped, releasing a cloud of blue dust into the air. Activating his mask, Bruce stepped closer, collecting the dust as it lingered on the air, not moving.

As he twisted the lid on his collection jar, Bruce tapped the communicator that linked him to the Asgardian healer.

“Eir?” Bruce said as he turned and fled the clearing. “I think I’ve got something.”


	3. Plea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruce and Eir work out a theory.
> 
> Loki and Hilde recall their past loves, revealing a tragedy in Loki's past.
> 
> An unexpected memory prompts Loki to seek help from someone he loves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FYI this is NOT how I expected this chapter to go, but I'm really happy with it. I'm taking some huge liberties with mythos and Marvel canon...but I don't care!
> 
> Kudos and Comments keep me well fed! 
> 
> Thanks so much for reading!

Chapter Three: Plea

 

**Now**

 

Thor Allfather, first son of Odin, King of Asgard, watched the vivid blue powder as it hovered in the air, still as death. Once released from the pod, it burst into the air, then lingered, unmoving in the soft, natural breeze.

When the astonished king took one step too many, the lethal spores drifted closer, as though drawn by some unseen magnetism. Dressed in the protective gear his leading healer had insisted he wear, Thor had no fear of the strange fungal spores, watching as they broke over his suit harmlessly.

Was this the fauna that would kill his mightiest warrior? This little thing brought down his champion? Such madness seemed surreal.

 When Banner first told the Goddess of Healing his findings, Thor peeled himself away from the sleeping Valkyrie’s bedside with reluctance. He hadn’t wanted to leave her or his grief ravaged brother for a moment. His duty to his subject, to the Valkyrie who fought at his side, however, made it impossible for the king to remain idle.

Eir had already rushed into the forest before Thor, crashing through the brush with a theory burning in her soul. She’d taken one look at the black-capped fungi blooming on the quiet riverbank and shuddered.

In all his many centuries, Thor had never seen Eir so uncomfortable.

She did not speak, so Thor did not question. Instead, he followed as she crouched before the mushrooms, those sharp eyes taking in the waterfall, the riverbank, and the heavy loam beneath their feet.

“Kingsbane.” Eir spat the word toward Banner, who turned to her with interest. He’d been busy collecting soil samples around the fungi, but looked at the healer intently now.

“I’ve never seen it in the wild, I’d thought Bor destroyed it millennia ago.”

Interest piqued at the mention of his long-dead grandfather, Thor crossed the clearing.

Grief tore at his heart as Thor recalled Loki’s tale of this clearing. His brother had so little to be happy for in his long life, so few people that loved him for himself. That something so plain, so _small_ had torn Loki’s happiness asunder broke Thor’s already tattered heart.

“What is Kingsbane?” Banner asked, his voice muffled by the mask.

“A deadly creation of Jotunheim, brought into its revolting existence during the first Giant War.” Eir replied promptly as she labeled her collection jar.

Hope lit in Thor’s heart. Surely something as old as this, _known_ to Asgard’s best healer would have a cure. If the Valkyrie could hold on, there might be a way to save her life.

“A creation of the Jotuns?” Banner asked, peering cautiously at the patch of black death. “Isn’t their entire planet made of ice?”

Eir’s chuckle was indulgent, but pitying. “They have magicians and scientists, just like any other realm, my good doctor. And when it comes to war, every people will find a way to kill their enemy.”

Mollified by this, Banner took her specimen jars, tucking them into the protective case he wore over one shoulder.

“So, this was an accident?” Thor asked, relieved that Hilde had not been targeted.

Eir nodded once. “It seems that during their visit, they disturbed the caps. The spores would have brushed right off of the Prince, since he is Jotun by birth, but they would have ravaged the Valkyrie almost immediately.”

Consternation crossed Eir’s pale face through the mask of her suit. “I’m surprised she made it back to the camp. Kingsbane was known to kill an Asgardian inside of a few minutes. Hours should have been impossible, much less days.”

Thor’s gaze cut to Banner, whose expression now mirrored Eir’s. “How is it possible?”

Banner’s gaze softened. “Loki.”

The King arched a brow. “Loki?”

His old friend glanced to Eir. “Is it possible Loki’s magic is somehow slowing the progression of the poison? Maybe even his contact with Hilde is somehow inoculating her to the effects of the spores.”

“It is _possible_.” Eir conceded. “I have never heard of such a thing, but it is possible. Loki’s magic can filter through his emotions, it is how he is managing her pain now, keeping her under the current of it.”

The trio fell quiet for a moment, Thor now wondering if his hope of a cure had no legs to stand on. Eir had not mentioned a way to stop the poison of the frost giants’ design, and the more time that passed without her speaking of it, the reality settled on the King.

“There is no saving her?”

His words hung heavy on the deadly clearing, with Eir looking between the Valkyrie’s friends, her face a mask of calm.

“No, your majesty.” The healer said softly. “I have never heard of a Kingsbane victim surviving the spores.”

Thor turned to Banner, his heart heavy, bleeding within his chest.

“I will tell my brother.”

 

**4 Months Ago**

“It was Amora, wasn’t it?”

Hilde opened her eyes, arching a brow at the question. They had only returned to the _Statesman_ , killing a beast on the planet below as a favor to the settlement’s ruler. It hadn’t taken long nor had it taxed the combined skills of sorcerer and Valkyrie, but they’d been horribly dirty upon returning to the ship.

With the King readying the provisions their little escapade had bought the Asgardians, Loki had enticed his lover back to his rooms with the promise of a meal and a bath.

Dinner eaten, they languished in the magically converted bathtub, filled to the brim with warm water and scented oil Hilde wasn’t going to ask how Loki got his hands on.

He sat behind her, on the lip of the tub, his magical fingers working through her hair. Loki had a fascination with his beloved’s hair, often brushing it out or braiding it for her. Since she had pig guts caught in the dark tresses, her lover took it upon himself to sort it out for her.

Hilde never complained when Loki took to plaiting her hair, she closed her eyes and gave in to the relaxation.

“What do you mean?” She asked, glancing up as he took another small section of her hair and combed it out.

“On Sakaar, you told me I wasn’t the first sorcerer you tangled with.” Loki replied, amusement in his voice. “I’ve just worked it out. It was Amora.”

Flushing with the memory of the sorceress from centuries past, Brunnhilde shifted her legs so the water lapped at the edge of their tub. “How the hell did you work that out?”

“So, I’m right.” Loki’s tone slipped into triumph. “You subdued Amora.”

“Well, subdued isn’t what I would call it.” Hilde teased, wriggling her toes. “I wasn’t sent by Odin or anything.”

His hands stilled. Hilde bit the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing.

“You and Amora…?”

“Oh, for _years_.” The Valkyrie laughed. “It was shortly after I joined the Valkyrior. I adored her, utterly. Her sister on the other hand…completely mad.”

Loki chuckled again, his hands returning to their work. “I didn’t think either of them to be capable of love, my dear.”

At this, Hilde fell quiet. She recalled her lover with muddled clarity. Not the entirety of her face or the way she spoke, but the light in her eyes, the lilt of her voice. Adora had been one of the best things in her life, once upon a time.

“We ended on good terms.” Hilde said softly, for thinking of Amora brought back the memory of her wife. “And it was shortly after that affair that I found Kára.”

Her name always brought a solemnity to their talks, though Loki never discouraged her from speaking of the wife she’d lost in her battle with Hela. On the contrary, Loki often asked questions about the woman she’d married and the life they lived before the Fall, interested without jealousy. Hilde, whom had buried the truth of her wife for many years under drink and despair, found her heart slowly healing as Loki prodded her to think of Kára.

His hands continued their work, tying off one braid before starting another.

“She gave you the key to the imbued chains, I gather?” Loki teased, sensing that she was sliding into melancholy.

“Oh, no. That was Lorelei.” Hilde chuckled, reaching onto the table beside their bath to grab her mug of mead. She might have slowed down on her drinking, but she still enjoyed a _really_ good mead. “She focused mostly on subduing men, but she had a few tricks up her sleeve.”

Loki’s laughter warmed her belly in ways that her lust for him did not. She hadn’t expected this, to have a friendship with the man she’d wanted in her bed. Truthfully, she wasn’t thinking of the long term when she agreed to that first dinner date. She’d wanted to do what she’d done since that battle with Hela, share a bed and saunter back to her rooms.

Her heart, however, had vastly different plans.

“Done.”

Her prince sat back to admire his work before he slid into the water behind her. Hilde shifted forward, allowing her beloved to settle back into the bath, her hair now done. She rested against his cool chest, hands drawing little patterns on his thighs. Hilde loved to stare at their skin as it pressed together, the contrast in color and temperature something she found inviting. Her dark hands traced over the pale, pale flesh of Loki’s legs, enjoying the freedom to touch him whenever she pleased.

A thought struck her as they settled in, Loki’s long, talented fingers toying with the ends of his finished plaits.

“You’ve never told me if you had a past love, my prince.” Hilde asked, tilting her head back against his shoulder to look into his eyes. “Don’t you have one or is it a dozen?”

His laughter sent a little shiver down her spine, but his eyes clouded with thought. For a moment, Hilde wondered if he would evade the question, or lie to her about his past. She could see a soul-deep wound in those familiar eyes and fought the urge to comfort him.

Loki did not like to be comforted as he was lost to thought.

“I had several conquests, of course, being a prince of Asgard.” Loki admitted after a moment. “I didn’t know why my parents hesitated in marrying me off, especially since Thor refused a betrothal. I was the only marriage card they had to play. I expected an early marriage.”

Interested in the tale, Hilde shifted so she might see his face more clearly, resting her head on his shoulder.

“They did not furnish me with a bride, so I continued to bounce around the palace as a prince. I took lovers when I chose, broke things off when I became bored, left a trail of broken little hearts in my wake.”

“In competition with your brother?” Hilde teased.

“Oh, no!” Loki laughed. “Thor never gave his heart. He only had a handful of lovers in all his centuries and was never quite sure how to end things when he needed to. He was a mess of it.”

Hilde snorted into her mead, shaking her head.

“In any event, two centuries ago, I was on a mission for my father. A peacekeeping trip to Alfheim. Our ambassador had become too old to carry out his mission, and I was sent until a suitable replacement could be found.”

Loki paused, gathering his words. Hilde relaxed against him, allowing him the time to sort out his thoughts.

“The ambassador’s daughter was named Sigyn and I wanted her from the moment I clapped eyes on her.” Loki continued. “We came together like a natural disaster, all flash and fire and passion. She was engaged to another and I convinced her to break it off, swore I would marry her.”

The tension in his voice told Hilde she ought to brace for something quite bad indeed, and so she did. Her lover had made many mistakes in his youth, done many things for which he now carried guilt. Perhaps this was one of them.

“What happened?” Hilde asked quietly.

Loki’s throat bobbed as he swallowed, a sign of his discomfort. Hilde scooted closer, allowing him the comfort of her body, her presence to soothe him. Loki proved to be a tactile creature, wanting to be touched, to be comforted more than he would ever let on.

Lucky for Hilde, she could read him as though someone handed her a cipher with his name on it.

“I was awaiting permission from my father to go ahead with the marriage, we were to leave for Asgard within a few days, since the Ambassador was now replaced. Thor had even come to help us move her things, though I think it was more to just be happy with us.”

Her prince shifted, pulling Hilde’s hand from the water and threading their fingers together. Her heart hammered in her chest.

“Her former fiancé found out why she had left him and broke into her home in the middle of the night. I wasn’t there, to keep decency about her name, I was staying with Thor in another house. Theoric slaughtered her father, her mother, and Sigyn herself before he turned on his own blade. I found them in the morning.”

Horrified, Hilde shifted in her lover’s arms, turning to face him fully. As expected, unshed tears shone in her beloved’s eyes, his lips quivering with the attempt to hold on to his emotions.

“I was broken, Hilde.” Loki replied. “It was only because Thor was with me, squashing every attempt I made at gathering my magic that I survived long enough for my mother to arrive. It was my fault. I had broken her engagement, then left her alone to face a madman. It was _years_ before I could even say her name.”

Her hand shook as Hilde reached up, touching her lover’s face. Loki seemed to gather himself, working past the pain she knew was the memory of finding his fiancée’s body. Hilde knew that pain too well, how it scorched the soul and left an imprint no amount of liquor or battle could ever scrub away.

“It was _not_ your fault, Loki.” Hilde told him softly. “No more than Kára was mine. I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Loki pleaded, reaching up to take the hand she pressed to his cheek. “I had not thought of her in so long, it feels rather nice to talk about her now.”

A soft, slightly mischievous smile slid over Loki’s lips. “She would have loved you. She did like a good warrior, all armor and steel. I might have had to watch you two closely.”

Hilde, sensing he wanted to tease, fell quickly into the mood. “Oh? I bet I could have stolen her from you, God of Mischief and all.”

“Is that so?” Loki’s hands lashed out, capturing his Valkyrie and hauling her sopping body to his chest. “I think I’d have given you a run for your money, warrior.”

Sliding into his lap, Hilde arched a brow and wriggled against him, finding that her lover was responding as he always did, instantly.

“Well, maybe.” Hilde admitted, sighing when Loki leaned forward to lick at the moisture on her throat. “I don’t know. I can’t think when you do that.”

Loki arched his hips against her, drawing a low groan from Hilde’s throat as he smirked against her flesh.

“Good. Stop talking.”

 

**4 Months Ago**

 

“Do you love him?”

Hilde skipped to a stop turning in the corridor that led between her rooms and Loki’s, though she slept in his more often than not. She needed clothing from her rooms tonight, so she intended only to slip out long enough to procure some.

After their long talk, Loki and Hilde found their passion reignited, as though their closeness reminded them of how much they wanted one another. Hilde hadn’t even wanted to leave his rooms, but the thought of having to leave later, after they retired to bed was even less appealing.

So, she’d left him lounging in his bed, stark naked and waiting for her, to run the fifteen yards to her rooms and back.

She hadn’t expected the King to be standing in his own doorway, asking her that particular question.

“Your majesty?” Hilde asked, staring at the King in confusion.

“I know I shouldn’t ask,” Thor replied, moving toward her. “But Loki’s finally happy and I won’t stand for anything destroying that for him, not now, not after everything he’s been through.”

“My King.” Hilde said, swallowing thickly. “It is not your place to ask such things. What the Prince and I do or feel is between us.”

“Yes.” Thor agreed with a smile. “But he is my brother and I would protect him from harm.”

“I’d die first.” Hilde said flatly. “I’d rather die than see him hurt. Is that sufficient?”

To her annoyance, the King grinned. “Yes. Yes, it is. Goodnight.”

With that, he ducked back into his rooms, leaving Hilde to ponder the strange encounter. A beat later, she remembered that her handsome, naked, adoring Prince was waiting. She hurried to her rooms and thought no more of the King.

 

**Now**

Loki gasped as he came out of the mind-scape he’d locked his beloved Valkyrie in. Their memory of the bath, one of his favorites, had led to a memory he’d never known about. Hilde must have guided them there, thinking of that moment, of the evening Loki revealed his fiancée and her untimely demise.

He had felt her astonishment at Thor’s boldness, but more than that, he felt the force behind her words to the king. She’d have died before hurting him, as clear a declaration of love as the one she made later that night.

Loki cherished that memory, of holding his lover in his arms, their bodies melded together, pleasure racing through them…and the whisper that she loved him into his ear.

Blinking more useless tears down his cheeks, Loki leaned up to kiss his Valkyrie’s brow.

“I love you.”

He stepped away, his magic keeping her under for a few minutes as he left her makeshift hospital room.

Looking up at the sky, Loki pressed his hands together, reaching for the one person he wished he could see just one more time.

“Mother.” Loki pleaded. “Mother, please. Help me.”

He felt a tendril of seidr reach up from the moon below, striking him in the chest with enough force to steal his breath and blacken his vision.

Loki fell to the ground with a muffled _thud_.


	4. Dream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brunnhilde and Loki look back once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm chugging along on this fic. I might even have another chapter this weekend!
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

Chapter 4: Dream

 

**Now**

Brunnhilde woke on a down-soft pillow, languid and sated. She blinked heavy eyes, inhaling deeply and astonished when she did not catch the familiar peppermint scent of the man she often woke with.

She lifted her head, pressing her hand into the fine-spun white sheets. This was not her bed on the _Statesman_ nor her lover’s. The room around was fit for a prince, from the murals on the walls to the golden chandelier above her.

“Loki?”

His name echoed. Hilde frowned. Of course. This was not reality. She was locked in her own mind, in his, hiding from the pain of her imminent death.

Her emerald bedclothes whispered as she stood, the silence oppressive around her. The Valkyrie looked around the room again, finding the object of her search was not in her line of sight.

“Loki?”

His name ricocheted again, coming back to her with the tinge of fear she hadn’t noticed when she spoke. Had something happened? Where was he? Why had he left her here alone?

“Hello, Brunnhilde Brorsdottir.”

She scrambled to sit up, turning sharply toward the door that her lover had indicated led to Thor’s adjoining bedroom.

Standing on the threshold, dressed down in a way she’d never seen him, stood Odin Allfather.

Hilde stood slowly, staring at the dead king she’d once served and hated and feared. A benevolent smile graced his lips, something she had never seen when he lived. He had been a force of nature in her youth, a king that sundered the cosmos to its knees. Hilde had once looked upon this king as a beacon of good, a benevolent creature who sent her sisters, her wife to be slaughtered by a monster of his own making.

“I’m sorry to intrude.” Odin continued as she blinked owlishly at him. “I only wanted a moment of your time.”

“Where is he?” Hilde demanded when she located her voice. “Where is Loki?”

“My son is searching for answers, Valkyrie.” Odin replied, stepping more fully into the room. The raven perched on his shoulder shifted as he moved, looking nonplussed by the motion.

“I’m dying.” Hilde said flatly. “And we aren’t sure exactly why.”

“You came into contact with something we thought eradicated, something designed by his mother’s father. It was a tragic accident, though I fear he will never fully believe that.”

“I’m not sure I do, either.” Hilde said as she stepped down from the raised dais beneath Loki’s bed. “What do you want with me?”

“Only to apologize, my dear.” Odin continued, shocking Brunnhilde into silence.

Hilde crossed the room slowly, the soft slippers on her feet almost silent. Loki had dressed her for this dream-scape of his, ensuring she would be comfortable. Had they been back on Asgard, had things been different, she might have stood as his princess in the royal family she once hated. This might have been her room, _their_ room. Loki wanted her to know that, when they drifted out of their dreams to this ‘holding’ area of her mind. Hilde felt his love for her in where she stood, in what she wore.

Odin’s presence threatened to taint that.

“Words will not bring back the Valkyrior.” Hilde replied in a whisper. “Nor will it bring back my wife or undo the destruction of Ragnarok. You made a mess of everything and the fucked off to your golden halls in Valhalla, leaving your sons to clean up after you.”

“Yes.” Odin answered softly. “I did.”

Hilde scoffed, noting the tears shining in his one good eye. “Tears? For your beloved Thor?”

“For Asgard.” Odin shot back, his voice rising. “For the people that died at the hands of my child, for my sons, left to hold our people together with their bare hands, for the danger I can feel fast approaching them.”

The fear in Odin’s voice brought her up short. Hilde stood only a few yards from the king she once served, waiting for him to continue.

“I see them now, as they stand.” Odin went on. “Thor comes back to your camp, to tell his brother there is nothing to be done. Loki lies on the ground beyond your tent, locked in his own seidr. His power waned, bringing you from the memories keeping your pain at bay. I brought you back under, I will keep you here until he returns.”

Shocked, Hilde furrowed her brow, pushing her unbound hair back with one hand.

“Why?”

Odin looked away, the raven perched on his shoulder flapping away, out of the window she knew led to the gardens.

“They will need you.” The dead king said quietly. “When all of this comes to a head, Asgard will need you to lead them.”

Terror slid on ice through her veins. Unable to help herself, Hilde moved closer.

“What do you mean?” She demanded, her voice breaking. “King Thor leads them, alongside the Prince.”

Odin did not speak, staring out of the open windows as though the clear blue sky held the answers he needed. With a growl, Hilde reached out, taking his arm and turning the king to face her by force.

“What is happening?”

She expected to be tossed onto her backside in her pretty green gown, to face the wrath of her dead king. Instead, Odin reached out, touching the hand that painfully gripped his bicep.

“Danger is coming for Asgard, Brunnhilde.” Odin replied, his brilliant sapphire eye boring into hers. “When the king orders you away, you must go. You will be all that is left to hold Asgard together until you reach Earth. No matter what happens, you must take the people and go.”

The thought of losing Loki and her king brought the echo of a broken heart to her, a pain she could feel even here. Hilde shook her head.

“I can’t leave him. I _won’t._ ”

“You must.” Odin shot back hotly. “If you do not, all of Asgard will fall and the king you serve with him. The prince you love will die in your arms. You _must_ take the people and flee when Thor orders you to or Asgard will fade back into myth, never to return.”

Hilde swallowed thickly, releasing her hold on the king. Odin held her fast, keeping their eyes locked together. The intensity with which he spoke sent fear chasing that spear of pain racing through her.

“I’m dying.” Hilde replied, shaking her head. “I can’t do what you ask.”

Odin’s answering smile was soft, one she had seen him bestow only on his first queen and the daughter he had loved before she grew too mad even for him.

“No, my Valkyrie.” He said with ferocity. “Loki will find a way. My son releases nothing he loves and he will not forsake you. Trust in him and in your heart.”

Hilde stared into his remaining eye, startled when she realized how similar it was to the king she loved now. Odin released her gently, lifting her hand to press a small kiss to her palm.

“What I said to them in that last moment remains: I love my sons. I know I have not shown it well and that I have made mistakes, but I love them equally. When the time comes, princess, remember my words.”

And with that, Odin melded into a shower of gold and vanished through the open window. Brunnhilde stared at the place where he had stood, at the hand still warm from his touch. Tears splashed down her cheeks as his words echoed in her head, a loop she feared might never end.

“Loki?” She called out for her beloved prince, pain slipping back under the dream she was locked in.

_Loki lies on the ground beyond your tent, locked in his own seidr. His power waned, bringing you from the memories keeping your pain at bay._

Odin’s words came back to her, painting an image of her beloved trickster unconscious outside of her tent. Hilde rushed for the door, hoping it might break the spell, that she would wake to alert Thor that his brother needed help.

She pulled on the gilded handle with all her might. “Loki!”

The door refused to open. Hilde kicked at it, banged her fists into the unmarred wood.

“Loki! Thor! Let me out!”

 

 

**3 Months Ago**

 

How different her life was now, Hilde thought as she disembarked _The Commodore_ with her Kronan friend in tow. Only a few months ago, she’d not uttered the word ‘Asgard’ in centuries, had turned her back on everything about her homeland in the wake of what she felt was her King’s betrayal.

And then a broken prince landed on a trash heap, leading her down a path that would change her life forever.

How could she have known the crimson cloaked warrior would change everything? That his mere presence would set everything around him on a course none of them could change?

And would she, if she could go back?

Hilde touched the spot on her neck where her lover had nibbled in an attempt to keep her abed this morning and promptly decided that no, she would not.

Ale and wine no longer pickled her brain. She had another cause to rally her from bed in the morning, a new king to serve. No matter how Brunnhilde had sworn to never stand between disaster and the throne of Asgard again, she knew this king, this _man_ to be worthy of her loyalty.

King Thor had earned the love, the fealty of everyone around him.

Thinking on her life brought her feet automatically toward the ‘Throne Room’ or so they called the bridge of the _Statesman_. Her King and Prince would be awaiting her report from the wilds of the unnamed planet they now hovered above. Though fuel levels were at acceptable levels, Thor worried about finding enough fresh food to keep his people healthy. Short rations and salted meats were fine in small doses, but he knew the benefit of fresh food. Hilde had volunteered to go on the mission, simply to irritate Loki. He’d wanted her to stay in bed, to entertain him for the day they would hover above the small planet.

She decided to go romping through the woods so he would miss her. Eighteen hours apart would do them both some good, even if she had missed him in her own right during her mission.

The moment Hilde stepped into the bridge, she knew she’d made her point.

Of course, her belly liquefied at the look on her Prince’s face. His features lightened as she stepped into the room, slamming a fist over her heart and dipping into a bow for her King’s benefit. She stood in one fluid motion, watching in the periphery of her vision as Loki forcibly held himself back from crossing to her.

Thor, aware of his brother’s struggle, did not bother to hide the smirk forming under his mismatched eyes.

“Captain.” The Asgardian King greeted her warmly. “News from the surface?”

“Our larders are full once more.” Brunnhilde reported, moving to the control panel that would show them the ledgers updating below. “We were able to find several edible species on the planet. The remaining crews are bringing them into the cooling bays now.”

“Excellent work,” Thor replied sincerely. He reached out to touch her shoulder, something that had irritated her in the beginning. Now, however, she knew Thor to simply be a tactile creature.

“Thank you, your majesty.” Hilde’s use of his title still carried a hint of teasing, but no derision. “If you’ll excuse me, I need a wash before I see to the night guard.”

He nodded his blonde head in dismissal and Hilde turned on her heel. Her eyes drifted quickly over Loki, whom had remained at his console, monitoring the cooling bay loading as she spoke with the King. She wondered if he would give in to the pull and follow her to her rooms, or if he might continue testing his resolve, and leave her in peace.

Unable to help herself, Hilde slid her lover a small, sincere smile before she left the bridge, rewarded in a slight inclination of his head in response.

As Hilde relaxed on the lift that would take her to her floor, she thought for the millionth time that day that she loved that sneaky prince.

 

Loki watched his Valkyrie leave the throne room, trying to focus on anything but the way her trousers stretched over her generous backside as she left. He’d spent a mind-numbing 18 hours doing actual _work_ , instead of being tangled in her bed as he’d intended.

Oh, he knew why Hilde wanted to run off to that unnamed planet in search of stores. She wanted to be missed, to be _longed_ for. Loki found that as the months went on, they had begun spending almost no time apart. They woke together, took meals together, were often in the Council chambers together or at the side of the king. The ship knew them to be an item, though they were careful to maintain decorum in public. Loki had noted that as they grew closer, they had become almost one being, one entity. Even the lower levels of the ship often spoke of them in one breath, as though they could no longer be separated.

In thinking on this, Loki decided to play along with Hilde’s little scheme, instead of insisting he supervise the expedition and drag her off into a clearing somewhere.

And throughout his exceedingly boring day, Loki realized how much he had come to depend on the woman now sharing his meager life.

More than a dozen times he turned to his right, expecting to see her there to share in some minor witticism or to ask her opinion. Finding her not there, nor at Thor’s side giving him tactical advice was…unnerving. How had they both come to depend on her so swiftly?

What shook the Jotun prince even more was that he did not find her wriggling into his life at all disturbing. Rather, Loki _wanted_ to share these things with Brunnhilde. He had wanted to see her roll those enormous dark eyes at a ridiculous quip, he needed her to weigh in on a personnel decision. For the first time in his life, Loki found himself in need of someone who was not his mother or his brother.

When she entered the throne room, Loki wanted to move to her, to take her in his arms and tell her everything he had thought through his long day without her. He watched in fascination as she dipped onto one knee, her fist over her heart, in a bow that spoke of bone-deep loyalty and love.

How magnificent she was. This mighty warrior, this frighteningly intelligent woman, this savior of Asgard…and she _loved_ him. He could see it, so plainly, as her gaze drifted over him before she left the room. The light in that dark gaze, her mouth pulled up into a small smile. Oh, she had missed him, too. The first full day they spent apart since their affair turned toward serious.

“Brother?”

Thor’s gentle call broke Loki from his reverie. Without thinking, Loki turned away from where the doors closed behind Brunnhilde and faced his brother.

“Do I still need the king’s permission to marry?”

If he was shocked, Thor did not let it show on his eye-patched face.

“No.” The reply was soft, but spoke volumes. “I would give my blessing even if you did not ask for it. She is something I never thought we would find in all the cosmos.”

“And what is that?” Loki questioned, arching a brow.

“Your equal.” Thor replied promptly. “And worthy of you, brother.”

Touched by the sentiment, the honestly, in his brother’s words, Loki swallowed thickly.

“Thank you, brother.”

Thor clapped his shoulder in that familiar, affectionate manner he had. The younger Odinson could feel the dismissal in the gesture and took it, striding directly from the throne room.

No matter how he wanted to chase after his Valkyrie, Loki headed for his own rooms.

 

**Now**

The Prince of Asgard awoke standing, staring into the Grey Wastes that he always thought the afterlife would resemble. He frowned, wondering what in the Hels had brought him here.

He recalled leaving his beloved’s side, locking her in the memory of that day she spent on that unnamed planet, allowing her to see what happened between himself and Thor once she left the room.

Hadn’t he stepped out of her tent, calling out to his mother?

“Hello, little magician.”

Her voice punched something in his gut, taking the nonexistent breath from his lungs. Loki spun where he stood in the greys, astonished to find the sprawling royal gardens laid out behind him, the sun shining merrily down.

And on her favorite bench beside the peony bed, sat his beautiful, beloved mother.

Without thinking, without caution, Loki moved to her. Tears coursed down his cheeks as he reached the vision sitting in her golden dress, her hair elaborately plaited into a crown atop her head.

Her scent reached him, floral and soft, as Loki dropped to his knees before the creature he loved most in all the realms.

Loki laid his head in her familiar lap, surrounded by her scent, recalling how many times he had done just this in his long life.

Frigga, Queen of Asgard, rested her hands on her son’s dark head. He could feel her smile, her love drifting over him.

“I’m sorry.” Loki whispered, his hands clutching at her gown. “Mother. I’m so sorry.”

“For what, little magician?” Frigga crooned, stroking his hair as she always had to soothe him.

“For what I said.” Loki choked, tears staining her gold-spun skirt. “The last time I saw you, I said…”

“The truth.” Frigga replied gently. “Your mother did not stand before you, only her shade.”

He lifted his head to look into the perfection of her face, to bask in the love shining down on him. No matter how he doubted Odin or Thor, one thing Loki had never forsaken was the way his mother loved him. He had known, even in the fathomless pit of Thanos’ torture, that he was Frigga’s son.

“You were always the one thing I counted on.” Loki continued, his voice cracking. “And I treated you so horribly. The things I did…”

“My son.” Frigga cupped his cheek, her flesh warm against his. “I never turned my back on you. I wish I had fought your father against your imprisonment, but your mind was still afoul with Thanos’ influence. I needed time to unravel his magic.”

Her smile curved that beautiful mouth, her eyes alight with pleasure.

“But you did it all on your own.” Frigga continued. “How astonishing, my little magician. You fought back from the brink, you _survived_ , my son. I am so proud of you.”

Tears spilled from his eyes again and Loki buried them in her lap as he had as a boy. Loki gripped at his mother’s hips, holding her fast, knowing their time would be short.

But, oh, having this moment. Having his mother returned to him if only for this, Loki would gladly go back into Thanos’ clutches a thousand times.

“I know you are wounded, my son,” his mother went on. “And I would spend eternity with you, but we are short on time.”

_Brunnhilde._

Her face swam in front of his vision and Loki forced himself to open his eyes. He did not raise his head, but exhaled slowly, shakily.

“Can I save her?”

Frigga’s answer was immediate and warm.

“You can.”

At this, the prince did raise his head, though he remained on his knees.

“How?”

“You know how, Loki.” Frigga admonished. “The spell you swore no one would ever be able to complete, because no one could give themselves over in such a way.”

Loki blinked, hope and fear at war in his chest.

“Is it…possible? Truly?”

“Anything is possible, my son.” His mother replied. She tapped an elegant forefinger on his brow. “The spell is here. The reagent is there.”

Her finger shifted to tap on his chest.

“Will it save her?” Loki asked, staring into his mother’s eyes.

“Yes.” Frigga replied quietly. “But you must give everything to it, Loki. There will be no going back. There will be no others in your life or hers. You know what happened before the spell was sent to the darkness.”

Loki swallowed thickly, thinking of that lesson at his mother’s knee. The spell had caused those it was cast on to slide into madness, to tear one another apart.

He thought of Brunnhilde and everything they were to one another. He knew her moods, what she was thinking before she ever opened her mouth. They held nothing back from one another, even when hours-deep into a glass-shattering row.

The idea of losing her left his soul crying out…

“I can do it.” Loki decided, smiling when Frigga grinned in response.

“I know you can. You have the power, but you must be _perfect_ and you must be quick.”

Loki leaned up, gathering his mother into his arms. He held her fast, taking from her the strength he needed to continue on, to face the reality of what he must do.

“I love you, Mother.”

Frigga pulled back, looking into his eyes as she captured his face with her hands.

“I love you, my Loki. Now, go. Thor is panicking.”

 

He woke on a gasp, as though someone had held him under water too long.

“Loki!” Thor was shouting. Someone was shaking him hard enough to rattle his bones. “Loki! Damn it! Wake up!”

The prince reached out to stop the infernal shaking, gasping for breath as the scent of his mother’s perfume still surrounded him. It was too real to be a dream, too convenient to be fate.

Either way, Loki knew what he had to do.

“I’ve got it.” The prince said, scrambling to his feet as the King stared at him in shock.

“I can save her.”


	5. Soul

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki reveals his plan.
> 
> Hilde visits Loki's most feared memory.

**Now**

“Loki!”

Her voice still carried through the ornate bedroom with the eerie, otherworldly echo she’d not yet become accustomed to. Brunnhilde pounded at the door with one hand, sure if she were in the real world, the bones would have snapped from the force. The fingers of the other ached from the grip she held on the golden handle, pulling at it with all her might.

Had someone found him by now? Was he lost in the tide of his own seidr, unable to surface? How long until Odin’s assistance wore off, leaving her back in the throes of lethal pain?

“Please!” Hilde begged fruitlessly, feebly slapping once more at the ornately carved wood. “Let me out!”

Weakness took out her knees, bringing with it the sense of burning deep within her chest. It had been that sensation which first told them something had gone amiss during their foray into the forest. She’d stumbled as they walked back from the clearing where they spent hours alone, making love, and talking in low tones, lost in the quiet, in peace. By the time Loki had translocated her back to the camp, her heart had slowed dangerously, the screaming had begun.

Pain now seeped out from her lungs, spreading along muscles and nerves with frightening rapidity.

“N-No.” Hilde breathed through the shocking pain. “Loki.”

Her breath came in short paints, her legs giving way fully. Hilde crumpled to the floor in an ungraceful heap.

If the pain were now returning, even here where Loki had locked her away from it, Loki had not yet returned to her side. Some evil must have befallen the prince she loved, for he would never allow her to be lost to pain.

Tears welled in her eyes, not only for the burning in her veins, but the sense of loss at her missing prince.

Perhaps if they were both released from the mortal realm, she might see him again. She could usher her beloved into the halls of his father, his parentage be damned.

But they would leave Thor utterly alone and Loki would never allow that.

She did not matter. The King would need his brother.

Surely she could wake herself long enough to shout for aid. If Loki had indeed fallen at the mouth of her sick tent, someone would be close by. If she screamed, they would come, they would find him. Someone could save him.

Her hands shook, trembling as she tried in vain to hold back the pain that heralded her death. Loki needed help, she could feel it.

In her desperation to find an answer, a way back, Hilde did not immediately notice when the pain crested before it began to recede. Her racing thoughts could only keep one in focus at a time and her own comfort came in a distant last.

“My dear?”

The echo of his voice was nearly lost under her own cries. Hilde looked up sharply to find her paramour striding into the room from the wide, open windows. The curtains parted for him as he stepped through, his eyes focused intently on her.

Why had she not tried the Norns-be-damned windows?

Hilde scrambled to stand, astonished to find her pain now completely diminished. Loki reached her as she found her feet, reaching out to clutch her greedily to his chest.

The Valkyrie gripped the fine material of his shirt, pressing her body close enough to his that she ought to have felt his signature chill of his Jotun flesh. Loki wove his arms around her back, pressing a kiss to her temple as Hilde allowed her heart rate to once again slow.

“What happened?” The Valkyrie demanded into the fine cloth of his shirt.

Loki clicked his tongue soothingly, reaching up to cradle her head with one hand. Hilde melted into his arms, so relieved that he’d returned to her, she could hardly deal with any additional thoughts. Someone had found him, roused her beloved, and reunited them.

How much time did they have left?

“I’m so sorry, my dear.” Loki whispered, kissing her again. “I’m working on a solution for us.”

Hilde sniffled, pulling back to swipe at her damp cheeks with the sleeve of her satin gown.

“A solution? Is there one?”

Loki nodded once, his emerald gaze boring into hers as though her eyes held the answers he desperately needed. Her lover practically vibrated with frenetic energy, the way he sometimes had in battle or when deciphering a particularly difficult puzzle.

“It is risky and I need you to be sure you want me to do it.”

The tip of Brunnhilde’s tongue burnt with the need to tell him yes, to ask him to do anything in his power to save her. Even after her many millennia of life, she hadn’t come to grips with death, not yet. She’d spent so long welcoming, wishing for death and now…she had something, someone to lose.

But she halted the affirmative answer, wondering at that energy wafting off of her prince. Something was holding him back, something he could not decide on his own. Or did he, perhaps, fear that if she knew what his solution entailed, she would never allow it?

“Its dangerous.” Hilde asked, lifting a brow. “For you.”

His tongue darted out to moisten dry lips. Loki nodded once.

“Yes.”

Hilde shook her head. “No.” She slapped her hands to his chest, shoving her prince away. “I’m dead. I won’t lose you for some harebrained scheme.”

Turning away from the prince she loved, Hilde crossed her arms tightly over her chest. She paced toward the memory of his desk, laden with books and strewn with parchment and ink pots. Hilde smiled at the carved wooden desk, fighting the urge to throw it at him.

“It’s not a harebrained scheme, my dear.” Irritation dripped from Loki’s silver tongue. “And I would not contemplate considering the ritual if I did not love you so fiercely.”

Breath caught in her throat, but Hilde did not turn. Loki moved closer to her, the proximity of his body making hers thrum in response.

“I would not contemplate it if I was not certain you loved me in return.”

At this, Hilde did turn. She met his familiar gaze, expelling a breath sharply. Her heart throbbed in her chest, reminding her that she’d given it to him those weeks ago, without reservation or expectation. In return, he’d given his, shared every part of himself.

“I love you more than I could ever express.” Brunnhilde whispered, watching as the weight of her words forced his eyes to close. “But I will not risk you.”

“You cannot ask me to live the rest of my centuries without you.” Loki countered, his eyes snapping open and his feet bringing him an involuntary step closer. “I need you to trust me.”

Typically, when asked to trust the man she loved, Hilde would throw a silly line at him about his being the God of Mischief.

Not this time.

Brunnhilde swallowed the hardened lump in her throat, exhaling again and searching her lover’s gaze carefully.

“What does the ritual involve?”

Loki crossed to her swiftly, gathering her back into his arms and sliding his cool mouth over hers. Hilde dove into his kiss, wrapping her body around his like a vine, clutching him to her as though the world were to end at any moment.

“I must see all of you.” Loki whispered when they parted at last. “And you must know all of me.”

Hilde nodded immediately. “Everything.”

Seidr drifted between their bodies and Loki rested his forehead against hers. Hilde felt the call of his magic, the grappling hold of memory taking them back under. She surrendered to the current without hesitation, keeping Loki safe in the confines of her embrace.

“Show me.”

 

**2 Months Ago**

 

To be fair, it’d been several centuries since Loki dared darken the doorstep leading to the Hall of King Lo. In those many centuries, stories had leaked from the secluded little moon on the outskirts of the Grunnur Galaxy of wild perversions and revolting debauchery. Many envoys sent to the court of Lo never returned, with even wilder tales of slavery and grotesque murder slithering through the cosmos.

Most of the tales, Loki had found a century ago, had proved true.

If the _Statesman_ had not been critically low on fuel following a leak at the hands of a meteor storm, Loki would have not dared attempt trading on that depraved little moon. In fact, if he’d never entered the same airspace as Lo and his band of miscreants again, it would have been too soon.

Alas, they were stranded in the atmosphere of the gas giant within orbit of Dorax and so someone had to attempt trading with the debauched king.

It was by unanimous Council vote that Thor would not set foot on Dorax. Loki knew his brother well. If he saw even a tenth of what really happened on this little backwater planet, he would raze the palace to the ground without thinking. Even Hilde agreed to send Loki alone, believing him to have the greatest chance at swindling the mad king and getting off of the moon with his skin intact.

The moment he set foot on Dorax, Loki found himself in chains. This wasn’t uncommon for Lo’s court, so he allowed himself to be dragged into the throne room.

For three days, Loki kept Lo company, chained to the pillar before the throne, unable to contact his brother. Lo refused any attempt Loki made at conversation, choosing to leave him to rot within his eye line.

Honestly, the slight he’d given the disgusting king was so small, he ought to have been over it by now.

Pretty boys were often easily enticed, Lo shouldn’t have expected loyalty from his plaything at the time.

On the fourth day of his imprisonment, Loki heard his imbedded comm. device click on. He heard static, three staccato beats of it, before it went silent once more. Try as he might, Loki could not keep the smirk from sliding over his face.

“And what’s my little slave got to smirk ‘bout, eh?” Lo asked from his languid perch on the throne.

Tall, whip-thin, and beautiful, Lo cut a majestic image. Loki could not deny that even he found the blonde, blue-eyed, and pale-fleshed creature attractive. But in those eyes, a hollowness that had no place on a living being dwelled. That emptiness shone in the depravity of his hall, the malice in his touch.

At his knee, the newest of Lo’s playthings lounged happily. When one found themselves in Lo’s favor he was a generous, gentle paramour. But, eventually, he became bored or felt betrayed and everything would go to hell.

Lo reminded Loki a bit too much of the Grandmaster, though with more malevolence than merriment.

Standing smoothly, his chains clanking musically, Loki faced the king he despised with his smile widening.

“I am merely celebrating my imminent rescue.” The Asgardian prince revealed with shrug. “It’s been a revelation, really, having people in my life ready to go to war to secure me.”

Lo snorted delicately, tossing the long, lush locks of his hair over one shoulder while indicating for a nearby servant to refill his wine. “If you’re speaking of your brother, his noble self would not deign to meet with me. I doubt he would set foot in my home.”

Static in his ear again. Two staccato beats.

“Oh, believe me.” Loki smirked. “Thor wouldn’t have got the chance. In fact, I’m surprised it took her this long.”

Lo’s golden brows lifted in an expression of feigned interest.

“Her? Got yourself a new plaything, have we, trickster?”

More static. One beat.

Loki took a step back from the throne, gauging what he knew of the layout with the style of the woman he loved. He kept his chains taught before him, his hands balled into fists.

“Not a plaything.” The prince drawled. “A savior.”

Glass crashed on the heels of his words, the elaborately stained windows of the skylight bursting down into the throne room. Loki stood, still as death, watching as the court looked up, expecting the fight to come from above.

Instead, the dais beneath the throne gave way with a thundering crack of splitting marble. Lo screamed as his throne tilted, sliding back into the shallow chasm created by the explosion.

A vision in silver and slate appeared from that crevasse, her dark hair whipping about her face, the shining blue of her famed Dragonsfang flashing in the dull candlelight.

Loki grinned.

“Hello, darling.”

Brunnhilde’s voice was almost lost in the war cry of Lo’s soldiers. They flooded the throne room on the heels of his high-pitch screaming. In seconds, they had Hilde surrounded. Loki rocked back on his heels, releasing an exaggerated sigh.

“When you’re through, my dear, I’m still chained.”

“With you in a moment, my love.”

Her reply heralded the flash of a blade, the swipe of lethal Asgardian steel. Loki watched in fascination as his lover went to work, culling the first wave of soldiers as though they were mere chattel.

Sakaarian champions broke through the throne room door, leaving the elegant carving in splinters. Led by the cheerful Korg, the slaves Loki once helped free now dove into battle without hesitation.

In the break given by her reinforcements, Brunnhilde appeared at Loki’s side. A single swipe of her blue blade shattered the chains binding him. The prince stepped forward, taking blades from his pocket dimension and bearing down on his rescuer.

“That certainly took you long enough.” He grinned as the battle raged around them.

“I wanted to make an entrance.” She lifted herself on her toes, pressed a hard, heady kiss to his dry lips. Loki embraced the woman he loved, blades and all, at once whole with her in his arms again. “You never go without me again. Do you understand? Together or not at all.”

His heart swelled so swiftly it ached at the sincerity of her tone. Loki nodded once, not dwelling on the vow he was making now.

“Together or not at all.” He agreed, twisting his arm to expertly toss a blade so it buried in the skull of an encroaching guard. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”

 

**2 Months Ago**

Hilde stood at her beloved’s bedside, holding his hand tightly with hers. In the rescue from Dorax, Loki took a blade to the back. No matter how he joked that it was his lot in life to go out with a move worthy of himself, Hilde had found no humor in the matter.

Four days he spent chained in that madman’s throne room, four days while she and Thor plotted and schemed without their lead plotter and schemer. Oh, they’d known going in that Lo would never give them what they wanted. They would have to play him, and dangling Loki in his midst was a perfect choice.

Leaving her beloved out of that part of the plan hadn’t sat well with her, but rumors surrounded Dorax of mind-readers and they couldn’t send Loki in with information that might have got him killed outright.

She’d waited on pins and needles for the order to retrieve her prince, listening through his comm. device as he tried to engage with Lo. When he found out what she had done, he was likely to go through the roof.

Bringing him back to the repaired ship with a knife in his back hadn’t been part of the plan.

Still, he would be alright with a bit of rest. Under the gentle hands of their Goddess of Healing, Loki recovered quickly. Brunnhilde would not leave his side until he woke, until she could apologize for the subterfuge, for allowing him to be so injured.

As she pressed a kiss to her prince’s hand, she heard him mutter in his sleep. Hilde frowned, leaning closer to listen as a nightmare seemed to clutch at his mind.

“Loki?” She whispered his name, trying to rouse him. “Darling.”

He continued to mutter, the words incomprehensible. Hilde chewed at her bottom lip, reaching up to touch his forehead. She frowned, finding the flesh there clammy, warm. Feverish. How did a frost giant develop a fever?

“Eir?” Hilde called over her shoulder for the healer, shifting to stand more closely to her beloved’s head. “Loki, darling. Wake up.”

His body began to tremble, his face a mask of pain, of _fear_. Heart hammering in her chest, Brunnhilde touched his forehead again, astonished to find the flesh there hot.

Dizziness overtook her. Black spots swam in front of her eyes. Hilde blinked in an effort to clear her vision, finding herself blinded by a sudden, brilliant sunlight.

The heavy din of battle resonated around her. Hilde turned in a slow circle, finding her standing under a single, yellow sun, atop a high tower that overlooked a sprawling metropolis.

Explosions sent smoke into the clear, dry air, the cacophony of screams, of sirens, of _war_ drifted up from the city below. As she turned, Hilde found the object of all her affection standing to admire the view.

He stood tall, magnificent in his flowing cloak and golden helm, holding a spear that glowed with power. Hilde stared at the man she loved, unable to recognize him in his current state. From here, she could even see that his eyes were not the typical deep green, but a luminous, otherworldly blue.

How could this be Loki?

A thundering _thud_ sounded from her left and Hilde spun with the vision of her beloved. Thor, so young and wielding the mighty Mjolnir, appeared on the level below, his skin shining with the perspiration of battle, his hair long and unplaited.

“Loki!” The young prince demanded. “Turn off the Tesseract or I’ll destroy it!”

The answering grin on her prince’s face was alien in it’s malice, it’s derision.

“You can’t!” Loki gestured with the spear in his hand, the crest of it glowing as blue as his eyes. “There is no stopping it! There is only the war!”

Thor’s face took on an expression of grim determination.

“So be it.”

Hilde cried out, taking a step toward the battling princes as Loki leaped from the dais. They dove into battle, masters of their art and ready to paint the very stones beneath their feet with blood. She stepped too far, watching them and nearly fell from the dais Loki had watched his handiwork from.

The ferocity between brothers broke her heart. She stared over the edge of the balcony, watching as hammer and spear sparked again and again, as the brothers who were once bonded in such love were torn asunder.

Madness morphed the handsome features of the man she loved, turning him into something alien and ugly. Thor, for his part, begged his brother to reconsider, to stop it, to fight again at his side. The noble would-be king took a blade to his gut for the trouble.

As Loki rolled himself away from the intimate battle, Hilde found her cheeks wet with tears.

This was New York. This was the attempt Loki made to force Midgard to submit, when Thanos sent him as his minion. No matter how often she asked, neither Bruce nor Thor nor Loki himself would tell her about the events of this day.

She watched as the city began to crumble, stared when Earth’s heroes tried to stop the coming invasion.

The invasion helmed by the man now steward of her heart.

“So.” His voice echoed as it always did when she slid into his mind. “Now you know the worst of me.”

Hilde turned on the balcony where he had stood in all his glory, finding the more familiar form of the man she loved in the exact place she’d found herself upon arrival.

Loki, his green eyes filled with sorrow and shame, watched her cautiously.

“You were having a nightmare.” Hilde explained, swallowing thickly. “I didn’t mean…”

“No.” He offered an indulgent smile. “It is likely I called to you. I did not want to face this nightmare alone.”

“Loki.” Hilde whispered his name, startled as another explosion sounded nearby. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“That I tried to conquer a world for no reason? That I have the blood of _thousands_ on my hands? That I played slave to the Mad Titan and held an Infinity Stone in my grasp? This is my _shame_ , Brunnhilde. This is my _regret._ ”

His throat bobbed as he tried to regain control, those sorrowful eyes straying back to the battle raging below again and again. Hilde briefly closed her eyes, not surprised when tears slid down her cheeks when she did so.

“This is not you.” The Valkyrie said quietly.

“But it is.” Loki replied just as softly. “For all my claims that Thanos controlled me, that his torture bent my will to reshape it as his own, it was my ambition, my rage, my pain that created this. It is as much my fault as it is his.”

Hilde opened her eyes, finding Loki had moved, ever so slightly, away. His shoulders bore tension, his eyes clouded with misery. Hilde could see the walls she’d spent so long tearing down rebuilding with frightening speed.

“So it is you.” Hilde replied, taking several steps toward him and hurt when Loki backed away to keep the distance between them. “Don’t shut me out, not now.”

Her breath came in short pants, the lump of emotion lodged forever in her throat.

“I see you.” Brunnhilde continued passionately. “Loki, I _see_ you. I know what you are capable of. I know _who_ you are. No matter your ambition, no matter your rage or sorrow, this would have been a dream, never a reality. Perhaps you are partially to blame, but this is not unforgivable.”

Hope lit in his eyes as he turned to face her once more and Hilde confidently stepped forward. This time, Loki did not step away.

“Only an idiot would hand her heart to you not knowing what you are.” The Valkyrie said as a Leviathan crashed nearby. “I knew you to be scheming and ambitious and clever when I fell in love with you. Why would I turn away when confronted with that side of you I always knew was there?”

She watched tears spill from her lover’s eyes and moved into the circle of his arms, rewarded when he reached out to cup her cheek.

“I _love_ you.” Hilde whispered. “The good, the bad, the ugly. I will never turn my back on you, Loki.”

His eyes fluttered closed as Hilde pressed herself more fully into his embrace.

“I love you.” Her prince replied when his eyes opened again. “I do not deserve you.”

“I don’t deserve you, either.” Hilde shot back with a trembling smile. “But we can be undeserving together.”

“Yes.” Loki released a watery laugh. “Come back to me.”

Hilde nodded once. “Take me home.”

 

**Now**

Loki opened his eyes, not surprised to find his cheeks wet. Thor stood across from him, anxiously bouncing on the balls of his feet. He had given his brother only the basics of the ritual that might save the Valkyrie’s life, but Loki insisted he had to know from the woman herself if she wanted him to complete it.

“Well?” Thor demanded as Loki adjusted to the realm of reality. “What happened?”

The prince looked down at the pale face of the woman he loved, recalling how she felt seeing him in that memory of New York. He felt the horror at what he had done, how she admired his strength, how she practically oozed forgiveness.

If she could forgive him that, if she could see into the darkness that dwelled inside of Loki Odinson and still love him without exception, Loki knew the ritual would succeed.

“I need a few things.” The prince said quietly. “And no interruption.”

Thor’s brow furrowed in confusion and fear. “Loki. What are you going to do?”

The prince of Asgard took up the hand of his Valkyrie, threading their fingers together gently.

“ _One heart. One soul. One life._ ” He replied in a whisper. “I’m going to bind us together. Mind. Body. Heart. Soul.”

The King took a startled step back. “Brother.”

Loki kissed the hand of his beloved, offering his brother a small smile.

“An unbreakable bond, brother. A bond that will save her life.”


	6. Bond

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki searches for the final piece of the bonding ritual, but things do not end as he intended.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry this is SO LATE! The final chapter WILL be up next weekend! Enjoy!

**Long, Long Ago**

Wind whistled in her ears as she fell, the heavy body of her beloved Astrid crashing to the realm of Hel beneath them. She landed only yards from the winged beast that saw her through so many dangers, shouting her name as the horse gave a final whinny before she died.

Lifting her Dragonsfang, Brunnhilde hauled herself to her feet, turning her eyes back to the battle as the Valkyrior fell from the misty sky. The portal that brought them to this realm had long-since closed, leaving the last of Odin’s prized warriors to fend for themselves.

Hundreds of her sisters lay at her feet, clogging the battleground with silver armor and blue cloaks and blood. Hilde kept her eyes off of their bodies, turning to face the beast they were meant to slay.

Only a few Valkyrie remained on their feet, including Kíara.

“Typical of my father, sending the incompetent Valkyrie to finish what he started.” Hela’s voice rang out, smooth and unruffled. “You know he knew you wouldn’t be back.”

To her credit, Kíara stood strong, her long, blonde hair a banner in the sulfuric Hel breeze.

“I knew.” Hilde’s wife called back, her voice strong. “We only needed to provide distraction enough to allow him to reclose your portal, to bind you more securely.”

Hela arched a brow under her horned helm, smirking in that feral way that made the blood of monsters run cold. Her eyes lit with pleasure as they slid over the bodies littering her realm, landing on where Hilde stood.

“It seems I will have a prize for my inconvenience.” Hela drawled. “The first Valkyrie to marry and continue their service.”

Hilde squared her shoulders, adjusting the grip on her Dragonsfang. Going against Hela alone, or even as a pair, would be suicide, but Hilde would not allow her wife to face this monster alone.

Kíara lowered her blade, standing only yards from where Hela held court over her prison realm. The woman Hilde had loved for centuries gave no indication of weakness or loss of resolve.

“Odin would never send his warriors to battle with no means of escape.” Kíara took a step to the right, covering Hilde’s body with her own.

“You won’t get the chance to use it.” Hela countered. “Look around you, the Valkyrior have fallen, never to rise again. And I have their prized general at my mercy.”

The scrape of metal on metal gave all them all the indication they would get. Hilde braced her blade in her hands, charging toward her wife. No matter what happened next, if they were to die at the hands of this creature, Hilde would do it at the side of her wife.

But that wasn’t to be.

Instead of charging toward battle, Kiara did the extraordinary. She turned to Brunnhilde, her blade at her side, her free hand grasping at something in her pocket. Blades erupted from behind her, summoned by the mistress of this realm and Hilde locked her eyes onto the familiar gaze of her wife.

“I love you,” Kíara whispered. “I will love you forever.’

“No.” Hilde took a step toward her as blade slid through the air. Kíara’s hand fanned out to the side, motioning in the air behind Hilde. She felt a whoosh of air, smelled the stench of rot and refuse a beat before the blade slammed into the body of her wife.

“ _NO!”_

Hilde reached for her wife again, horrified as she fell to her knees, the heavy, black blade of Hela thrust through her chest. Blood bubbled up from her beloved’s lips, red-black and thick.  Taking another step toward her, Hilde found herself pushed back by a wave of pure power, the sort that her wife controlled. Kíara shoved her back, toward the open portal behind her as Hela made a mad dash toward them.

“Kíara.” Hilde cried out as her wife’s power pushed her toward the portal. “No! Take me with you.”

“Not today, my love.” Kiara breathed. “Not for a long time.”

Hilde felt the breath stolen from her lungs as the portal reached for her, grasping her body and pulling her back.

The last thing Hilde saw of Hel was the smile playing on her wife’s mouth with the goddess of death bearing down on her.

 

When she woke, Hilde found herself in the midst of a trash heap, a group of scavengers staring down at her.

“Are you a fighter?” The one she pegged as the leader asked. “Or are you food?”

Pain lanced at her body, her heart shattered as she saw her wife’s last, bloody smile behind her eyes. Rage rushed on the tail of the pain, covering the ache, soothing her broken soul.

She reached out with one hand, grasping the leader by the throat and tossing him over her shoulder as she stood.

“Fighter.” Hilde said on a growl. “You’re my food.”

 

**Now**

Loki opened his eyes, finding his cheeks wet with tears, the echo of loss curled around his heart. He remembered the feeling himself, when he’d held Sigyn’s lifeless body in his arms. That feeling, that overwhelming emotion he now saw through the eyes of the woman he loved, in her memory of that last crimson smile.

Brunnhilde had spoken of her wife and that sacrifice she had made to ensure the last Valkyrie survived the fall of the Valkyrior. She had never said, though, that Kíara had engineered her escape, that she reserved the portal Odin bid her use at the last moment, to save the life of the woman she loved.

That sacrifice had changed so much in so many lives, Kíara’s sacrifice might have saved Loki’s soul.

Did she know? Could she have known that Loki would find Brunnhilde, that they would complete one another after the pain and loss and trials of their centuries?

Brunnhilde’s lingering emotion in his heart told him that yes, yes, she just might have.

Turning his eyes to the woman he loved, Loki exhaled explosively. It was the last bastion of pain between them, sharing the losses of the people they loved before. Loki had shown Brunnhilde the aftermath of Sigyn’s murder and in turn, she took him to the last ride of the Valkyrie, to the sacrifice her wife had made to buy her time.

Standing from her bedside, Loki turned away. His heart thudded heavily in his chest, echoing the loss his beloved had felt. As he stepped outside of the medical tent, Loki looked up to the stars above, reaching out to the woman centuries-gone.

“I would have done exactly the same thing.” Loki said to the stars, oddly feeling as though that blonde Valkyrie looked down at him now. “I would have given my life to save hers, even if I could not be there for it. I would have hated it, knowing she would live to fall in love with another. But to give her even one more breath, I would destroy myself a thousand times. I would debase myself in ways even the Grandmaster could not imagine to have her smile at someone, at something in the centuries after I was gone. I want you to know, that I will do everything imaginable to keep her safe and happy, Kíara. I swear it to you.”

A footstep sounded behind him and Loki turned his face from the night sky and its three moons. His brother stood at his back, looking up at the stars with his single eye. Thor crossed his arms over his chest before turning his gaze to Loki.

“I imagine she’s made the same speech to Sigyn.” Thor said quietly, the way he always spoke of Loki’s fiancée.  “I can’t imagine the odds of you two finding one another, after everything you’ve lost.”

Loki smiled shortly, turning his body toward his brother. “Mother always swore there would be another love. That was the gift of our seeming immortality.”

“Mother saw things in ways we could never imagine.” Thor continued softly, his smile telling Loki speaking of her had brought her memory to the surface. “I’m happy she was right in this regard.”

Loki nodded. “I’m running out of time. The last memory we shared, toward the end it began to fray. She’s slipping away.”

Thor exhaled explosively. “I know. But we’re having a difficult time finding your final ingredient for the ritual.”

“A piece of Asgard, almost an impossibility.” Loki admitted, his heart sinking. “Has Eir prepared the stasis chamber?”

Though his optimism had taken a hit when Loki revealed what he would need to complete the ritual binding himself and Brunnhilde, it lasted only for a moment. Though the planet he needed a piece of had vanished into nothingness, Thor would not relinquish his hope. They already had a sliver of Jotunheim, a gift from an old soldier who took an enchanted icicle from the last giant war. Loki had not yet found a way to thank him.

“It is prepared, but neither Eir nor Banner feels it will help. Even with your help, with the transfusion of your Jotun blood, the spores continue to ravage her.”

Turning away, Loki nodded to himself. “And even if the ritual works, it is no guarantee that my Jotun side will save her, perhaps it will only make me vulnerable to the spores.”

“Loki.” Thor began. “Mother would not have steered you astray.”

“What if it was not our mother?” Loki shot back in a whisper, afraid of the words he had not yet voiced. “What if it was only my mind, reaching for something, _anything_ to save her?”

“No.” Thor reached out, taking his brother’s shoulder in that familiar manner. “I believe that Mother would reach out for you, no matter what.”

Appreciating the thought, Loki lay his hand over Thor’s, clutching at his brother to borrow some of his mythical strength.

“We will find something, Loki. We will save her. I believe that, with everything I have.”

“Why?” Loki asked, meeting his brother’s gaze. “In what realm could you believe I _deserve_ to save her? What have I done in my life to deserve being happy? Losing her is no more than I’ve earned, brother.”

“No.” Thor interjected.

Loki pulled himself away, taking a few steps away from his brother as panic overtook his heart. He felt her slipping away, even as he tried to grasp her more firmly. All the things he had done before he met her, all the death and mayhem and mischief, perhaps he was destined to lose her now. Perhaps it was his comeuppance for centuries of madness.

Thor reached for him again, grasping at his shoulders. He did not speak, as though he knew Loki could not hear what he wanted to say in this moment. Loki continued to attempt slowing his breathing. He couldn’t succumb to panic now, not when Brunnhilde still needed him.

Even if this was his due, he would fight it tooth and nail. Hilde did not deserve to die for his mistakes.

As Loki fought for breath, he heard footsteps approach. The brothers turned as one, finding a young Asgardian woman at the edge of the clearing, a small boy clutching at her hand.

King and Prince stared at the pair, astounded, until the mother spoke.

“This is Bror.” She said quietly. “My King, Prince Loki, he has something for you.”

The boy, a small thing with flaxen hair and wide green eyes stepped forward, releasing his mother’s hand. Such bravery in this boy, Loki thought, stepping away from the safety of his mother and toward, not the king, but the god of mischief.

“Prince Loki.” Bror said quietly. “I have something. I took it, when we were getting on your ship, when you saved us on the Bifrost. Mama says you need it, to save the Valkyrie. Is that true?”

In his grasp, the boy held a large sliver of rainbow glass. The little thing shimmered in the light of twin moons, carrying with it the hope Loki thought long gone. There was hope in the boy’s eyes as he stepped further forward, placing the rainbow glass into Loki’s hand. For his part, Loki could scarcely breathe. In his hand, he now had the means to at least attempt saving the woman he loved.

“Please, save her, your highness.” The boy whispered. “I was on the Bifrost when the Valkyrie came with King Thor, when _you_ came to save us. If this little thing can help you, please take it.”

“I cannot repay you,” Loki breathed at last, stunned by the innocence and resolve in this child’s gaze. “What you’re giving me can have no fair price.”

The boy called Bror smiled sweetly. “You already paid for it, your highness, when you saved us from Hela.”

His mother drew him back, leaving Loki to stare in wonder at the small piece of glass that represented his beloved’s home. Thor thanked the little family heartily, leading them away as Loki stalked back in toward the tent. He had everything he needed now.

Even if the universe thought him unworthy of salvation, of love, he would give it every opportunity to reverse that decision.

As he reached his lover’s bedside, Loki took her hand and plunged back into her mind.

 

 

Some hours after the boy brought him the piece of the Bifrost needed for his ritual, Loki watched as Banner and Thor gently lay his beloved Valkyrie in the ritual circle. They had returned to the clearing, now removed of all Asgardian-killing spores, as a place of power. Loki and Brunnhilde had spent hours in this clearing, making love, talking, being together in that way they could only do alone.

Now, the quiet area filled with magic. Loki cast his circle in pure salt, then again in raw charcoal. He set the sliver of Jotun ice at the north, the glass of Bifrost at the south. In the center, lay the woman he loved and soon, he would lie beside her.

“No matter what happens, brother, you must not interfere.” Loki warned, yet again.

“I swear, brother, I will not.” Thor promised, taking his place outside of the circle, beside Banner. “Do me a favour, though? Don’t die.”

Loki only replied with a small smile, stripping his clothing down to the cotton undergarments he wore, noting that he now matched the soft, white tunic and trousers Eir had dressed Brunnhilde in.

He propped himself on his side, pulling a dagger from his pocket dimension. He whispered the purifying spell over the blade before cutting into Hilde’s forearm and copying the wound on his own flesh.

His façade of Aesir fell, revealing his blue-tinted flesh and Jotun markings. Loki continued the chant, pressing his blue-blooded wound to Hilde’s crimson, closing his eyes.

“ _One flesh. One mind. One soul.”_

He awoke in his bedroom on Asgard, the drapes unfurling in the sweet summer breeze. She turned from the windows as he entered the room, her emerald gown sweeping around her. Loki smiled as the sound of his own chanting echoed in a continuous whisper between them, joined a moment later by the voice of his Valkyrie.

“Your spell-craft is astonishing.” Loki said under the current of his casting.

“I had a very good teacher, darling.” Brunnhilde replied.

The chanting echo rose around them as they moved closer together. Loki’s mind filled with emotion, his, hers, theirs, he could no longer tell. Every breath he drew now rebounded, chased by a double beat of two hearts trying to now match cadence.

Memories drifted in and out, an amalgamation of him, of her, of the memories they shared. Loki reached for her as the magic swelled around them, carrying them closer, fusing their minds, their hearts, their bodies together.

Her hand in his was an anchor, those fingers as familiar as his own. She stepped into his personal space, her luminous dark eyes unfocused as the same memories and emotions and pain filtered through her own body. Their voices rose in that continuous chant, the binding magic at work outside of their astral selves. This would be the final piece to lock into place, this mental connection cementing their minds together.

“The point of no return,” Brunnhilde whispered. “You’ll never have a thought that I won’t know.”

Loki allowed his mouth to curve into a smirk. “You may live to regret that, my dear.”

“Never.” Hilde replied. “Never.”

Drawing his beloved into his arms, Loki held her fast. Brunnhilde’s arms wove around him tightly, clasping him as surely as he grasped at her. Their mingled voices reached a fevered pitch, his heart hammering in his chest, breath in short, labored pants. He could feel her under his skin, stretching through every inch of him. In turn, he slid into her body, filling in the spaces, consuming as much as she could give.

He could feel as he mind latched to his, clutching her more tightly to his chest. Hilde held her breath as the last pieces that kept them separate fused.

“I love you.” Hilde whispered on a rush, burying her face in the crook of his neck.

Loki thrust one hand into Hilde’s hair, closing his eyes as the sense of her soul filled his.

“I love you, too.”

 

**Now**

 

Her eyes opened, but the world spun on its axis. She squeezed them closed again, willing the world to stop spinning as she fought to find her bearings. For almost a week, she’d been locked in the astral world, keeping the pain of her looming death at bay with the help of her mischievous prince.

The real world seemed too much, too bright, too loud.

When she felt she had a grip on the world, Brunnhilde again opened her eyes. She immediately recognized the Clearing of Death and the cool body beside her.

As Loki opened his eyes, Brunnhilde propped herself on her elbow, looking down at him with a smile.

The moment her beloved realized she was awake and smiling at him, she received a warm swell of love and relief from his end of their new bond that brought tears to her eyes. The depth of his emotion, the freedom in his relief humbled her. There could be no doubt in how Loki Odinson loved her, how he cherished her.

“You saved me.” Hilde whispered, blinking tears from her eyes.

Loki sat up quickly, reaching out to cup her cheek. They flinched in unison, stunned by the sensation of touching and being touched. Every nerve ending in their bodies remained on high alert.

“That…might take some getting used to.” Loki whispered, leaning closer to capture her mouth.

Loki’s kiss liquefied her on a good day, but feeling what he felt was almost too much to bear. It would soon be impossible to distinguish her emotions from his in regards to one another. They were, truly, one heart, one mind, one soul and body.

So, she knew almost before Loki did that something was horribly, terribly wrong.

A tremor started at his center and worked its way out with ruthless efficiency. Hilde felt it rock him at the core, the pain whipping through him almost instantaneously.

“Hilde.”

He gasped her name, his loving touch morphing into a deadly clutch. Hilde shouted for someone to help, not surprised when Banner and Thor crashed through the brush, Eir hot on their heels.

“No.” Hilde sobbed as Loki succumbed to the pain, as it reached back to drag her under. “It has to work. It did work.”

Eir crashed to her knees beside Loki, hands spread over his torso as her face grew grey and serious. “We knew this was a risk. His body has absorbed her Asgardian nature. He’s vulnerable to the Kingsbane now.”

“No.” Hilde wept, taking Loki’s hand with hers. “No. I won’t let this happen. I won’t.”

“Hilde…” Thor reached for her, but the pain had risen up in her own body now.

“I won’t.” Hilde swore again as the blackness overwhelmed her and dragged her under the current of pain.


	7. Titan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki and Thor discuss their trip to Earth before the Mad Titan tears everything apart.

**Now**

 

As he moved through the ship, now familiar as the palace on Asgard had been, Loki offered the patrolling guards a small nod in acknowledgement. Over the last weeks, since the hell that had been their stay on that backwater little moon, the trepidation from those he did not know well seemed to have abated.

He assumed the lack of mistrust was down to the Valkyrie and how the others regarded her. Loki’s own reputation was now joined with hers and so it would always be. The goodwill her deeds had garnered now wore off on the Prince of Asgard.

Two months passed since Loki lay in that chilled clearing, binding his soul to that of the woman he stood a chance at losing. Two months back on this ship, with all that remained of his people.

Two months with that woman now under his skin, burrowed into his soul, whispering in his mind.

He still wasn’t used to it, the odd little murmur that would slither into his mind on the tail end of a thought barely formed. The first time it had happened, when they awoke with the Kingsbane burnt off in their systems, Loki felt his heart stop. Her voice was there, clear as though she had whispered into his ear, her consciousness vividly aware of every thought and feeling coursing through him.

In return, Loki was granted into the deepest, darkest recesses of the woman he loved. He took _hours_ to explore this unique bond between them, sliding into the spaces she hadn’t known she kept dark, watching memories unfold, basking in the thoughts revealed by her beautiful mind.

As Loki reached the king’s rooms, he chuckled to himself. Brunnhilde had retired to train with Banner’s alter ego, and from the level of swearing present on her side of the bond, the Hulk was giving her a run for her rum.

_I can hear you laughing._

Loki tried to bite back another chuckle, futile as it was. She could feel his amusement as though it were her own.

_I’ve always found your use of profanity quite entertaining, my dear._

Warmth flooded the bond between them, chased by amusement and annoyance. Knowing what his beloved Valkyrie felt in such a tangible way removed all doubt, all trepidation. He never had to guess at her mood or play games to learn what she wanted. They were tangled together, unable to separate and Loki never felt more whole in all his life.

_Get that green fool on his back, my dear, or I shall be forced to spank you._

A sharp stab of lust slammed through the bond. Loki stumbled his steps, stunned by the weight of his lover’s feelings, righting himself when he noted a pair of elderly women carrying laundry staring at him.

_Down girl._ Loki replied to his beloved. _Try to control yourself in public._

_Me?_ Hilde sent back with mock astonishment. _How dare you._

_I’m meeting with the King._ Loki’s thoughts were tinged by humor, by love for his brother. He had no shame about either emotion, knowing Hilde did not judge them. _I’ll see you later._

_You will._

Her presence remained when her consciousness drifted away. Though Loki and Brunnhilde shared a bond like no other, they still maintained some privacy. They could immerse in one another, lock out anything else in the world and often did such when they were alone. But for their daily tasks, they continued on much the same, calling out to one another through their bonded souls when needed.

Thor absolutely delighted in their silent bond, especially when it came to diplomatic meetings.

Loki tapped the panel of his brother’s rooms, admitted when Thor called out to enter. The Prince stepped inside easily, finding his brother staring out of the windows into the infinite galaxy beyond.

“Our larders are once again full, brother.” Loki greeted, moving to stand beside his brother at the window.

“Good.” Thor’s voice was quiet, tinged with deep thought. “I thought we were in worse shape after seeing Xandar.”

Loki lapsed into silence, aware of how his brother had taken the news. The _Statesman_ had hoped Xandar could provide them aid, especially given Thor’s past relationship with the Nova Corps. When they arrived, however, they found the little planet torn asunder, the latest victims of the Mad Titan. Their ship had limped onward, though some believed they ought to have stayed, to help rebuild Xandar and make it their own home.

Thor, however, had set his sights on Earth and there would be no dissuading him.

“How are you doing, brother?” Thor asked in that same pensive tone. “Any hint of the side effects from your ritual?”

“I wish I’d never told you about those.” Loki sighed. “And no, we seem to be doing just fine.”

Thor grunted. “No encroaching madness or splitting of psyches?”

“No, brother.” Loki replied for what felt like the hundredth time. “That only happened to those who continued to try to keep secrets or were not meant to be bonded. Brunnhilde and I are…content now. We have no secrets.”

Pleasure slid over his brother’s face in the form of a soft smile. Loki recalled how he’d awoken from the pain of Kingsbane to Thor’s massive hands on his chest, pounding at his heart, begging him to breathe. He remembered the tears in his brother’s eye, the feel of those hands beating at his sternum. As Loki took that first breath, he reached for his brother, assuring him he lived.

Neither of them was exactly sure how he had, but both Loki and Brunnhilde woke from that coma with all evidence of Kingsbane burnt away.

Banner assumed it was a delayed reaction from Loki’s Jotun blood that finally destroyed the vicious spores. Loki didn’t dare look a gift horse in the mouth. Both he and Brunnhilde had survived, that was enough.

“You’re happy, brother.” Thor observed, swinging his gaze back to the stars.

For his part, Loki’s psyche reached out to touch the mind joined with his, pleased when she sent him an “I’m busy” nudge in return.

“I am.” Loki admitted without preamble.

They lapsed into silence for another moment, Thor and Loki looking out to the stars that might lead them to salvation or damnation. What remained of their people were shoehorned onto this stolen vessel, hurtling toward a planet that might not welcome them with open arms.

Loki did not care if Earth still hated him for the attack on New York, though he’d been wound like a toy for a Titan and set loose on humanity. He did, however, care if his people suffered because of his own past deeds.

Perhaps he ought to leave the _Statesman_ before they reached Earth. If he were still presumed dead to humanity, there would be no issue with Asgard settling on the little blue planet. He could always disguise himself, move among them as a simple councilman or magician. All of this, he wanted to ask of his brother. For once, it was he who sought council, he who needed his brother’s ear.

But he worried that any hint of his disembarking the ship would send his brother back to that place, the empty air between them, the tinge of distrust. They had shouldered all of that aside after the adventure that nearly robbed Loki and Brunnhilde of their lives. The brothers had begun anew, a decision Loki did not believe he deserved from his optimistic brother.

Still, they were fast approaching the time when a decision would have to be made.

Hilde had agreed with Loki that hiding or leaving would do the Asgardians the most favor, but also disagreed that Thor would take this badly.

Deciding it was time to face his demons, Loki sighed.

“Do you really think it’s a good idea to go back to Earth?”

Thor swung his gaze from the starry horizon to Loki.

“Yes, of course.” Thor replied without hesitation. “The people of Earth love me. I’m very popular.”

Recalling his encounter on the street with his brother, when fans had run up to ask for a photo, Loki nodded.

Inhaling sharply, Loki continued.

“Let me rephrase that. Do you really think it’s a good idea to bring _me_ back to Earth?”

When he replied, Thor’s tone was light, well-humored.

“Probably not, to be honest.” The young King said. “But, don’t worry, brother. I feel like everything’s going to work out fine.”

It appeared at the bottom of the window, a hulking shadow that woke terror in Loki’s heart. He knew the shadow of that vessel, the ominous presence that ever lingered at the edge of his psyche.

Panic lit in his soul. Loki’s entire being, his sense of self, screamed out one word:

_Thanos._

 

**Now**

The word rocketed through her with the force of a blow. Brunnhilde fell flat on her back in the makeshift sparring ring, winded by the sudden influx of panic and fear unlike anything she had ever felt. Stunned by the emotions flooding her body and soul from the other end of her bond with Loki, Hilde could not even put a hand up to defend against the Hulk’s latest attack.

Luckily, her sparring partner knew her almost as well as her beloved did, and halted his fist before the blow landed.

“Angry Girl?” The Hulk asked, batting at her prone form with one massive hand.

“Loki.” Brunnhilde breathed, clutching at her heart as panic and fear slammed through her again. He was on the move, hurtling through the ship. Hilde scrambled to her feet, rushing out of the sparring chamber as warning klaxons began to wail.

“We are under attack. Civilians to the escape pods. Warriors to the bridge.” A familiar voice – Heimdall – spoke through the speaker system, repeating his orders as Brunnhilde rushed toward the King’s chambers.

She met Loki in the corridor, the King at his side. They clasped one another close, Hilde clutching at her lover as his emotions became hers. She tried to combat his panic with calm, but her emotions were lost in the tide of his.

“You have to go.” Loki whispered into her ear. “Take the Hulk, get below. You must lead the civilians away.”

“No.” Hilde breathed into his neck, her grip on Loki tightening. “I won’t leave.”

“You have to.” King Thor interrupted, reaching out to clasp her arm. “He will focus on Loki and myself, we already know that. If you take the civilians away, he won’t bother with the pods. You must do this for me, Brunnhilde.”

Hilde recalled, with sudden clarity the visit of Odin King to her mind while she slept under the influence of Kingsbane. His voice came back, clear and crisp as it had been then.

_When the king orders you away, you must go._

Pulling back from her beloved, Hilde turned slightly to face the king, his father’s words resonating from her memory. Loki turned to her, startled, as though he were also privy to the memory now crystal clear in her mind.

_If you do not, all of Asgard will fall and the king you serve with him. The prince you love will die in your arms._

Swallowing thickly, Brunnhilde nodded once. Loki stared at her, shock evident on his face, but he did not mention the source of her sudden agreement. She felt him reaching into that memory, curious and afraid, but soothed in some way. Did he reach the end of that memory, when Odin repeated how he loved both of his sons?

“Hulk.” The King had already continued on, Brunnhilde and Loki still locked in their bond, in the memory of his father. “You go below with Hilde. Help get the civilians on the pods. Then go into the Captain’s quarters, remain there until we call for you.”

“Why?” The Hulk asked, curious.

“Because you’ll be a nice surprise when we need it most. Just secure the pods, that’s the most important thing.” Loki continued.

Hulk nodded to them both, turning to jog down the hall, his voice bellowing for the frightened people to _Come on_.

Thor clapped his brother on the shoulder, patted Hilde on the back, and rushed away toward the bridge.

“You have to go.” Hilde choked, holding the bond between herself and her beloved tightly. “Be careful.”

“I will.” Loki promised, cupping her cheeks with both hands and pressing a soft, sweet kiss to her lips. “Get as far as you can, as fast as possible.”

“I promise.” Hilde breathed, swallowing hard on the end of the words. “Loki, our bond…”

“I don’t know.” Loki admitted. “I can only hope it doesn’t take you with me.”

“I’ll hold you here.” Hilde promised, clutching him to her chest once more. “I will _not_ let you go.”

She felt her beloved smile against her neck. “I’m counting on it.”

 

Hours later, as the myriad of escape pods plunged through space, Brunnhilde stared out at the stars from her seat. She lingered on the edge of sensor range for the wreckage of the _Statesman_ , changing the frequency of her sensors as she scanned the debris field.

No sign of life. Nothing but miles of broken, twisted metal and bloated bodies.

And inside of her, where for two months she carried the presence of the god she loved, there was silence.

That quiet echoed, consumed, a reminder of what Thanos had wrenched from her so violently. Grief curled around her heart, an old, familiar feeling she had spent so long trying to kill. It returned to her now at thrice its previous power, filling her with anguish to the very bottom of her soul.

For the first few hours after the attack, she consoled herself that she had not felt any fear from her beloved. Indeed, she felt nothing, as though someone had turned the power off on their bond and sent it dark. It dawned on her much later that she felt _nothing_ from that bond she shared with her trickster. No lingering emotion, no flashes of memory, no gentle, consoling presence in her mind. It was as they were before, separated.

Hilde had lost herself to grief when she realized what it must mean for their bond to have severed itself. The Mad Titan had ripped him away, stolen from her the one thing in this galaxy she might want to fight for.

And as she continued to search the wreckage, Hilde had to come to terms with the fact that Thanos had taken from her the king she longed to serve.

Both of them gone leaving her to lead the remaining people of Asgard to Earth in a handful of escape pods.

So few. So few of Asgard yet remained.

Two more pods searched the debris with her, hoping for any sign of life, pulling onto their tiny ships any supplies that survived. Brunnhilde’s pod continued toward the pile of debris, tears coursing down her cheeks. No one mentioned them. No one dared. They were all very aware of what Thor and Loki and even her beloved Big Guy had done to buy them the time to escape.

Did any of them know the power Loki had given up to purchase only a few more minutes?

She exhaled sharply, swiping at the tears on her face as she moved her pod through the debris.

Someone laughed behind her. Hilde turned, looking for the person standing too close for comfort. She frowned, finding no one directly behind her, no one who might have laughed that closely.

She shook it off, continuing to tap on the screen before her.

Her eyes snapped up from the console as something reached inside of her, a familiar hand gripping tightly…

Deep in her soul, in the quietest part of her where she kept the deepest of her grief, someone grasped the end of the bond she shared with Loki and _tugged_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you. Thank you so much for reading this. I've had a lot of fun with this fic and I won't be stopping here. I'm turning this into a collection of stories for a few of my fave pairs and one pair you might not expect. Keep on the look out for Here Inside the Dark, which should have a first chapter up soon.
> 
> If you liked this fic, please leave a comment! Again, thank you for reading and sticking with me through long pauses between updates.
> 
> \--Geeky


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